Summer Vacation CU MIX
by Tracy Smith
Summary: The story SHOULD be over. . .because the Doom Warriors have departed from Hawaii. . .
1. Prelude

Chapter 1 - Prelude (a.k.a. author's notes and Then Some): 

I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, and of the cards/characters, or any of the other cameos that aren't me (I'm appearing HERE, for one).

This is my first attempt at uploading anything to I don't mind flames, so long as there's a GOOD reason why I'm being flamed.

Me, the author, can and will appear all over the place, but I assure you, I'm NOT a Mary Sue (because two of the three Doom bikers are too young for me).

Alcatraz, I mean, the reincarnation of Atlantis is located somewhere in California. It should be pretty darned obvious which story arc this story is taking off of. . .

This story is a Christmas present, so if it seems that someone/everyone is acting a bit/very much OOC, it's INTENTIONAL. Furthermore, it also means that I don't have the time to ruminate over everything.

The victims, I mean Doom bikers, are Amelda, Raphael, and Varon.

The rating is subject to change, based on the weather, the story, and a random number between 1 and 62,545,132.

The title, "Summer Vacation (CU MIX)", is meant as sarcasm. I'll explain myself fully at the END of this story. Furthermore, "Summer Vacation (CU MIX)" is NOT owned by me, it's owned by OutPhase (the awesome group made of TaQ and dj TAKA).

Last but not least, Merry Christmas!

Okay, off with the story!!

---

Autumn leaves have since ceased falling, and the sky was a lovely shade of storm gray. Dartz looked up at the weather and glared. Duelists usually took to the indoors when the weather turned bad. The Leviathan wanted souls NOW, not when the weather was expected to clear in a week. Chasing the clouds away would be a small matter, but the coast was in dire need of rain. The rain would do bad things to his steps, which were already being worn away by three idiots on motorcycles. Perhaps they deserved to slip and fall to their deaths.

"A trip to Hawaii? Are you crazy?" The unmistakable voice of one of his warriors echoed down the hall, around the corner, down another hall, and into the vast chambers where he stood. Dartz didn't much feel like identifying who said that. An idea began to form. Those brats from Domino City were far from wealthy. They wouldn't be able to make it to Hawaii until the entire island chain was devoid of souls.

The rich kid with the disturbing plane probably wouldn't be allowed past the control tower.

With a thought, he summoned his three warriors. His three soaking wet warriors. It wasn't a pleasant smell.

"I've found another source of souls. The pests from Domino City won't follow you. With the amount of souls you three will HOPEFULLY be collecting, we won't need the Pharoah or his cheering section." Confused looks went all around the room, but no one said a word.

"Your next assignment is in Hawaii. I don't trust the security at the airports, so everyone will be travelling by commercial charter." Another set of confused looks went around the room. It was getting far too crowded for Dartz's taste.

"But Master, the commercial pilots couldn't pilot a remote-controlled plane for--" Dartz glared at Amelda, who fell silent.

"Do you read the papers AT ALL? Security at the airport is more incompetent than the lot of you! I do NOT feel like replacing one of my planes if another crazy person goes joy-riding on the runway!" A look of comprehension crossed Raphael's face, which was a rare sight indeed. The other two looked lost, which wasn't unusual.

"Pack your bags, because you're leaving on the first redeye flight out of here." Three people nodded before rising and leaving.

"Cheap wad," Varon muttered. Dartz did not feel like exerting the effort to punish him. The plane ride over would more than suffice.

---

Author's notes, part 2: It's a horrible premise, but it had to begin somewhere. The first sentence is based off of "California Dreamin'", which I also do not own. The incident with airport security that Dartz mentioned (someone driving on the runway) actually happened. Really, it did. Anyway, thanks for reading! Review if it's that bad/good. Until next time!


	2. Trip Hop

Well. . .looks like no one felt like reviewing. Did anyone bother to read it? Ah, well, it IS a Christmas present (but if the person who this is being written for fails to read this by Christmas, all sorts of interesting things will happen). 

Again, I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, anything associated to Yu-Gi-Oh! (except for a whole bunch of Rise of Destiny packs), anything associated with Summer Vacation (CU Mix) (including its genre), any airline companies, and airline blankets. As a matter of fact, the only thing I own is myself (who happens to be speaking now, and will keep herself out of this story for as long as humanly possible).

---

Chapter 2: Trip Hop

It was going to be a long plane ride. Any plane ride that wasn't an interisland hop was considered a long plane ride.

Some kind soul on the plane had turned the air conditioning to a few degrees off of absolute zero. Another kind soul coughed. Varon quashed the urge to take the souls of the two people previously mentioned. He had traded in his normal shirt for a tacky aloha shirt, and the person that had coughed sat directly behind him. The airline blanket didn't bother keeping him warm.

Somewhere far behind him, Amelda argued with a flight attendant.

Somewhere far in front of him, Raphael snored.

The flight had been delayed for several hours due to "technical difficulties". As a result, everyone had gotten a free set of earphones. The music the plane had to offer was as bad as its food.

Three seats down, a baby cried.

Five seconds later, the public announcement system came to life.

"We are expecting some turbulence. Please fasten your seat belts."

Somewhere behind and to the left of him, a woman screamed as the plane took a sudden dive.

Somewhere behind the scream, Amelda laughed.

The plane bucked up, then down. Varon now had a vague idea of how the fruits in a fruit smoothie must feel a split second before pulverization. His stomach turned.

Raphael continued to snore.

The plane pitched to the left. The baby resumed crying. A female voice swore softly.

The plane continued to lurch unsteadily.

Somewhere behind him, and getting closer, Amelda swore.

"Well, looks like someone forgot his seat belt," Varon taunted, as the redhead somehow got to his feet. Amelda opened his mouth to respond, then shut it, then put his hand over it, as the plane took another crazy direction change.

"Eyes like steel, stomach like a rotten pumpkin," Varon muttered, as Amelda stumbled towards the nearest bathroom. His blanket, which had become attached to his trenchcoat, obediently followed.

The plane slowly stabilized. Varon sighed with relief. The baby fell silent. The pilot's voice grated through the cabin.

"We will be landing at Honolulu International Airport in a few minutes. Please put your trays in the upright position and fasten your seat belts. Thank you for flying--" Varon stopped paying attention.

Raphael's snoring had stopped.

Amelda stumbled out of one of the bathroom, still a very unhealthy shade of green. On the way over to his seat, he attempted to grab Varon's unopened juice. The plane turned to the left. Amelda walked off with Varon's peanuts. Varon snickered. Those peanuts would probably make Amelda sick again. Not that he didn't deserve it.

As the passengers disembarked, Varon peeked out of one of the windows. It was about mid-morning, and all he saw was gray.

It was going to be a very long trip to Hawaii indeed.

---

Author's note: Well, the airlines DID give my family those earphones whenever they were disgustingly late. The music was HORRIBLE. I cut out mention of which airline Dartz had stuck his henchmen on, because I didn't feel like advertising. Varon's little peek out the window should explain the bumpy ride over to Hawaii. If not, the next chapter will definitely explain it.

Considering that Dartz made last-minute reservations, he was very lucky to get all three Doom Warriors onto the same plane. Holiday travel gets disgustingly hectic during the Christmas season.


	3. lower world

Chapter 3: lower world 

Author's notes, part 1:

First, a BIG thanks to thefutureMrs.Kaiba and Blood Pony for reviewing! Thank you for feedback! Free cookies for everyone! Chocolate chip!!

Because I was away on Saturday, I'm going to have to load two chapters. This is the first one. I might have to do something similar in the future, because it's getting awfully close to Christmas.

Oh yes, I have to edit the summary.

Again, I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, the characters/monsters, the song "lower world" (which is owned by DJ Setup, whoever THAT is), the Honolulu International Airport, or the amnesty bin that appears at the Honolulu International Airport. Seems that the only thing I own is myself (again).

I'll stop talking.

--

The weather in California was positively balmy compared to this. The wind hurled drops of rain mercilessly against the terminal windows. The sky showed no signs of clearing up. This was definitely not the Hawaii that the world was supposed to see.

Raphael silently observed three girls walk by. They had made the grave mistake of wearing white. His two companions would enjoy the view. Raphael had other things to worry about.

Like the location of the baggage claim area.

The Honolulu International Airport was a large warren of hallways that looked distressingly similar. The signs posted above the various passages did little to untangle the labyrinth. Even the nap he had taken on the way over didn't help his nonexistent sense of direction.

"Hey, I think it's this way," Varon said cheerily, as he ambled into yet another hallway. Amelda rolled his eyes.

After going down a couple of escalators and past an amnesty bin, the group arrived at what appeared to be the right place. A very loud, honking siren cut through the large room. They had wandered into a hockey arena.

Several people openly stared at the Doom Warriors. Raphael couldn't tell whether they were staring at Varon's horribly tacky shirt, Amelda's overly baggy yellow shirt, which he wore under his trenchcoat, or his own shirt, which was covered in dainty flowers.

It was better not to ask.

"It's our bags!" Amelda exclaimed, as he charged towards the lone group of luggage that sat in the middle of the floor. In the process, he bowled over two children and a little old lady. The children cried. The old lady tripped Amelda with her cane, who stumbled, but did not fall.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BAG, YOU FREAK!" someone yelled from across the baggage claim. The three girls in white shirts had found their way to the baggage claim area. Raphael saw Amelda's gaze wander to the wrong place. In moments, a goose egg graced his head, courtesy of a handbag.

"Can you prove that it's yours?" Varon inquired calmly. The girls looked among each other. They turned toward Varon.

"He's so CUTE!" they squealed simultaneously. Raphael sweatdropped. Amelda glared. Varon ran.

One of the girls shook herself out of her stupor and opened the suitcase. Several lacy articles of clothing lined the bag. Raphael blushed and turned away before his nose began to bleed. Amelda wasn't so fast. Another goose egg rose from his head.

The girls closed the suitcase, turned as one, and left with their belongings. Raphael dried his nose before letting out a sigh. Amelda was going to be talking about them for a long time. Varon returned from his impromptu run across the baggage claim area.

"Are they gone?" Varon asked hastily. Raphael nodded. Varon held another suitcase in his hands.

"Found this on my way over. I think it's yours, Amelda. Hey Amelda, are you listening?" Amelda sat to the side, rubbing his bruised head.

"I'll be fine," the redhead muttered, as he opened the suitcase Varon had found. A trenchcoat fell out. Amelda stuffed it back into his suitcase before shutting it.

Raphael breathed a sigh of relief. All their bags had arrived safely. It was time to call a taxi.

--

Author's notes, part 1.5: The Honolulu International Airport is THAT big. I hate to think of what would happen if Raphael had to find the airport's post office.

"lower world" is a reference to the location of the baggage claim area (which is on one of the lower levels of the airport). Raphael's comments about a hockey arena stem from the sound of the sirens in the baggage claim area.

This was supposed to be the ride over to the hotel, but this chapter wound up taking a life of its own. Therefore, Amelda gets to narrate the next chapter. Considering his temper, and the drivers in Hawaii, it's going to be a long chapter. . .

Amelda: Are you saying that I HAVE A BAD TEMPER?!

Me: The story's over, go away.

Reviews are always welcome.


	4. Karma

Chapter 4: Karma

Author's notes, part 1:

I don't expect any reviews between chapters 3 and 4, because I uploaded them at about the same time. This is to make up for my Saturday vacation.

I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the associated character/monsters (NOT counting the booster packs I received for Christmas. Thank you!), any cab companies, any hotels, any schools, any offramps/place names, any school children, any hospitals, or the 15,000 cars that make an appearance in this fic (including the white sports car, which belongs to my mom). As a matter of fact, the only thing I own is myself.

Onward.

--

Twenty minutes had passed since Raphael had called for a cab. Amelda hated waiting. He hated waiting in weather that was as miserable as the weather he thought he left behind.

The rain came down hard enough to leave a fine mist above the road. Thunder rolled in the distance. The wind made everything sickly cold.

A few moments later, a dinky cab showed up. The cab wasn't big enough to fit the three of them and their luggage (which consisted of three suitcases, three carry-on bags, and another bag filled with junk that Varon just HAD to get). Not that Amelda wanted to sit near any of his fellow Warriors. He'd rather walk to Waikiki, wherever that was.

After the bags were loaded in, there was just enough room for two people. Two skinny people.

Raphael talked with the cab driver for a bit before walking off into the rain. One idiot down.

Amelda walked over to the cab. Varon had already taken shotgun. Amelda rolled his eyes and squeezed into the back. Sometimes, height was a disadvantage.

The cab driver started the meter. A small exclamation of surprise escaped Varon. Amelda peered over the passenger seat, and saw the starting fare.

They were getting ripped off big time.

Fortunately, Dartz had left each of them enough money to purchase a small plot of land. Before Amelda could finish his thoughts, the cab lurched forward.

"Mayhap you should BUCKLE UP," Varon sneered from the front seat. Amelda resisted the urge to hit Varon over the head with his own shopping bag. Varon's hair would absorb the shock.

"That means you too, little man," the cab driver shot back. A click answered the cab driver. Amelda's lower body protested as he somehow got the seat belt across his waist.

The cab lurched to the left. Brake lights shone dimly through the rain-generated fog. In moments, the cab had stopped. When did Hawaii get so many cars?

Traffic moved about as fast as a drunken turtle. Amelda took the time to read the traffic signs. One of them advertised a hefty fine for not wearing a seat belt. Several others advertised the speed limit, which the cars on the road ignored. A few advertised the high occupancy vehicle lane, which was naturally occupied by cars with the minimum amount of people requried to be a high occupancy vehicle. Most of the signs were the names of the offramps. The names were in a language that was definitely not English. One of the signs held nothing but vowels. Amelda mentally whistled.

Of course, traffic in the opposite direction moved swiftly.

The cab suddenly stopped. Amelda felt his stomach turn. Piloting a helicopter didn't irritate his stomach half as much as bad driving.

The cab had stopped on a rise. Brake lights lit the road as far as the eye could see. On the other side of the freeway, headlights blinded anyone dumb enough to look. A muttered curse indicated that Varon was that stupid.

Traffic continued to crawl along. Amelda watched silently as a pickup truck cut into a gap that was obviously too small for it. Five minutes passed before the truck was integrated into the lane it had tried to cut in. A few cars down, a woman talked on her cell phone. A few more cars down, another woman tried to eat a candy bar of some sort. The cab driver made a decisive cut right. The left lane picked up speed.

"Well, if it isn't just our luck," Varon muttered. Amelda did his best to ignore the moron(s) in the front.

The cars up ahead suddenly started moving. Amelda blinked. On the right shoulder lane, two cars sat idly by, while their drivers talked. It was a minor fender bender. The drivers of Hawaii were going to pay dearly for this! The crawl through traffic had put a good amount on the taxi's meter.

The cab eventually got off of the freeway. Amelda couldn't pronounce the offramp's name. He silently hoped that Varon wouldn't attempt it.

"Pune, punehow?" Varon asked the cab driver.

"It's Punahou," the cab driver responded patiently.

"Interesting language, this Hawaiianese," Varon retorted.

"It's HAWAIIAN, you spiky-haired dimwit!" Amelda screamed. Varon giggled childishly. Amelda was certain that the cab driver was trying his best not to kick them out in front of the women's hospital.

The cab driver swore as a white sports car streaked through an intersection. The driver of that car was most likely an immigrant from California.

The cab driver swore again as a bunch of school kids ran in front of his car after crossing a particularly big intersection. The children looked like they were just starting their teenage years. Varon acted like that constantly, even if he was far beyond that age.

The traffic on the intersecting street was slightly better than the traffic on the freeway. Amelda's stomach turned uncomfortably every time the cab stopped suddenly, which was about every car length. Why did so many people have to populate the roads NOW? Stealing their souls would leave their cars on the road, and they'd never get to the hotel if the cars didn't MOVE.

The cause for the traffic wasn't too far away. Two streets intersected at an odd angle, and the cars on the intersecting street didn't always clear the intersection. Where were the police? Amelda took a closer look out of the window. One of the cars that blocked the intersection was clearly marked "Police". Amelda had his answer. He shook his head. When that officer stopped for a donut break. . .

Traffic lightened up a bit once the taxi made it past that intersection. Many people, most of Asian descent, walked along the streets. A few suicidal people of a racial background Amelda couldn't easily identify ran in front of the cab. The cab driver swore at the retreating pedestrians.

After a few more side streets, the cab eventually stopped in front of what appeared to be a hotel. The front of the hotel looked grand, like many of the other hotels they had passed. Before Amelda could finish his thoughts, Varon's irritating voice shattered them.

"The cab ride was HOW MUCH?!" Varon screamed, as the cab driver pointed to his meter. The shorterst Doom Warrior let loose a few choice words before coughing up the fare, as well as a bit of tip. Amelda briefly thought of taking the cab driver's soul, but it wouldn't be worth the effort.

Raphael dozed in front of the hotel. Varon kicked his shin. Raphael shook his head dazedly before focusing on the two people in front of him.

"How did you get here before us?!" Varon demanded. Amelda had heard a couple of people at the airport comment about the slow bus service. He was equally eager to know how Raphael had beaten them to the hotel.

"It was a calm trip. The bus nearly ran over a few cars, but I made it here in good time. How was your trip?" Raphael regarded the bags before taking his luggage, which was pure black.

"We got caught in traffic," Amelda stated simply. His stomach couldn't take much more speech. He limped over to his luggage, which was as gray as his eyes.

"It was just like home," Varon added, before grabbing his wildy-colored suitcase. He easily lifted it with one hand. He slung his equally loud duffel bag over the other shoulder, and held the shopping bag with his free hand.

The three of them had rooms to themselves. The trip from California to Waikiki had taken more out of Amelda than he cared to admit. As soon as he had dropped his luggage inside the door, he flopped on his bed, and--

--yelped, as a spider the size of his hand crawled off the pillow it had been resting on. He gave the spider an untimely death before falling asleep.

--

Author's notes, 1.5: I decided to stick the taxi in the worst traffic I could think of - the traffic going into town in the mornings.

The title "Karma" is based off a bumper sticker. . .involving the word "karma".

I'm sorry if this chapter dragged horribly. It's the nature of traffic, and the exaspertation you, the reader, probably feel is the feeling that most drivers share on their daily commutes to and from work (and the exasperation that Amelda felt throughtout the ride).

The traffic patterns run somewhat similar to what I described. The fender bender, and the HUGE backload of traffic, happens frequently. The strange sign that Amelda saw was for Aiea (which is in the OPPOSITE direction of Waikiki). Varon's mangled pronunciation was the best I could do with his accent. Sorry.

The hospital near the offramp does exist, as well as the school. I attended that school, and the kids there DO cross illegaly in the mornings.

Where are the Doom Warriors staying? I'm not going to say.

The bus system in Hawaii is much faster than most people give it credit for. Though Raphael was dressed in some pretty horrible threads, no one paid any attention, because a good chunk of the bus revenue is from tourists. The bus that Raphael took was one of two that run between the airport and Waikiki (and those buses can MOVE).

I'll get the next chapter out by tomorrow, I hope. The only question is. . .who's the narrator? 


	5. Space Fight!

Chapter 5: Space Fight!

Author's note, part une:

Hey! More reviews! Thanks Blood Pony! Peanut butter cookies for you!! I promise I'll explain Varon's behavior in the previous chapter.

Varon: Why would you--

Me: The story hasn't started yet.

I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the monsters/characters/etc., the bus system, any motorcycle stores, any pedestrians, Ala Moana Shopping Center (I don't consider this advertising, because it also doubles as a bus terminal), the song "Space Fight!" (that belongs to Akira Yamaoka), or anything else that isn't me. My mother's car (the white sports car) is mentioned again. Sorry mom!

Four more days to finish this story. . .looks like multi-chapter uploads are going to become more commonplace.

---

Varon hadn't felt like waiting for Raphael to get the rental motorcycles. He sat calmly on a bus en route to the biggest open-air shopping center in the nation - Ala Moana Shopping Center. Finding a bus to Ala Moana had been a snap. Towards the back, a group of three people constantly peeked at him. When the bus came to a stop, he moved a bit closer to the back of the bus. When some fool with a death wish dared to cross in front of the bus, he discreetly stole the souls of the three boys that wouldn't stop staring at him. If they had been three girls, they would still have their souls.

It was male chivalry at its best/worst.

The rest of the bus ride to Ala Moana was uneventful, not counting four other close calls with pedestrians. The bus driver was kind enough to stop in the middle of the parking structure. Varon took the time to look around. Cars littered the parking lot, and many more searched in vain for a place to park. A white sports car braked mere inches from a couple that walked and talked merrily in front of the stopped car. Varon saw the woman's face tighten. Amazingly, she didn't honk.

Varon deftly dodged frantic drivers as they circled around the parking lot. He was glad that he took the bus to the shopping center. He didn't have to worry about parking.

Ala Moana, in the twilight hours, would have been gorgeous, if the rain wasn't there dampen the atmosphere. Covered walkways sheltered a variety of stores, some stranger than others. Many of the stores that fronted the parking lot were clothing stores. Varon also spotted a couple of places to eat, a couple of shops dedicated to surfing, a variety of other stores which Varon didn't feel like categorizing, and a post office. He would be coming back to the post office later.

The massive sidewalk was broken by several stands of plants. Rain poured down from the open skylights above the plants. When the weather was clear, the ledges around the plants were probably used as impromptu benches.

Varon's feet led him to a very disturbing store. He shook his head and walked on. Stores like those were the reason why the world had to be destroyed.

That store would get business from Amelda, if he could find it.

As Varon wandered around Ala Moana, his thoughts wandered back to the taxi ride that he had endured earlier in the day. He was almost certain that the taxi driver had swindled them out of some cash. How could a bus beat a taxi?

Amelda's expression throughout the entire cab ride had prompted Varon to act a bit more feisty than usual. It wasn't hard to tug at Amelda's uptight strings, and the reactions from the redhead made life all the more interesting. Fortunately, Amelda was too dense to realize that he was being toyed with like a marionette.

Raphael didn't joke around. Period.

The native language of Hawaii was Hawaiian, of course. Many of the places in Hawaii had Hawaiian names. Like Ala Moana.

Varon heard horrible music. He stopped dead in his tracks. A tacky store blared horrible music from its doorway. Kids ran in and out of the store. Several teenagers hung out near the store's entrance. Varon moved on. He didn't need any more teenage girls to declare their love for him.

There was only one for him, and she was in California, no doubt still upset with him. Maybe a nice trinket from Hawaii would help to mend things with her.

A large stage stood in the center of a particularly large open-air area. Varon looked up. Many more stores lined the second floor, stores that sold more than cheapness.

He found the escalator up easily enough. On his way up, another group of teenage girls looked at him and blushed. He resisted the strong urge to feed them to the Leviathan. Too many awkward questions would be asked.

He took the time to stop and look at the stores on the second level. Many of the stores on this level were the type that catered to the excessively wealthy. Or the excessively foolish. He wasn't sure what kind of person would walk into a store with such hideous photographs in their windows.

The second level was one long walkway, and he had taken the escalator that left him right in the middle of said walkway. Shoppers nearly shoved each other in the holiday rush. A large Christmas tree decorated a distant walkway. The decorations were tacky enough to make his shirt look decent.

He randomly chose a direction and took in the stores on that branch. He passed several jewelry stores. The people from within the shops gave him unfriendly looks. Most of the stuff they sold could be obtained elsewhere. He was looking for something more unique to Hawaii.

He finally found what he was looking for on the third floor. He left the store with a fancy bracelet. The saleslady had been more than kind in helping him to pick out a gift.

He saw a knot of people clustered around the escalator leading to the ground floor. He swore softly and attempted to make his way through the crowd. A large sign indicated that the escalator down was currently under repair. Just his luck. Someone stepped on his foot. The perpetrator melted into the crowd before Varon could rearrange his/her/its face.

Shoppers milled about in confusion. Scattered groups broke away from the mob without a purpose. Varon followed one of those groups. Maybe they knew the way down.

The speech of the group he followed wasn't exactly English. He could make out some words, but others sounded like total gibberish. It sounded like English with several other languages mixed in.

The group he followed had gone to a store near the far end of the mall. Varon spotted an escalator near that store. He rode down, glad to be going back down to earth. On the way up, a group of high school kids stopped and stared at him. The girls blushed. The guys glared. Varon shook his head.

The rain had intensified. It came down in rippling sheets. The wind blew the wind into the mall. The bus stop was in the direct path of the rain. Large blue signs indicated which buses went where. Before Varon had a chance to read the signs, a bus stopped. He hopped on.

The bus took a few unfamiliar turns. Then it turned again, onto a large street. Varon had hopped on the wrong bus.

---

Author's note, part deux:

I exaggerated the number of suicidal pedestrians on the way over to Ala Moana, but not within Ala Moana. I'm one of them.

I'm not sure where I read the little fact that Ala Moana is the largest open-air mall in the nation. The info on Ala Moana as a bus terminal can be found on certain buses. It's one of the first advertisments that's on the bus.

Ala Moana, in the middle of a rainstorm, is NOT a comfortable place to be. The rain falls through the decorative skylights, as well as the large open areas on the second floor. Those that aren't near the horribly air-conditioned stores get splashed. It's not much fun.

Varon got his bracelet at a store that I will not name. The "disturbing store" will also go unnamed. Go to Ala Moana and shop yourself.

What Varon does to Amelda is what I do to several other people in my life. It doesn't mean I'm romantically interested in any of them.

The broken escalator incident happened to me. Sorry Varon!

The incidents with the stores also happened to my mom and me. We were allowed in one of the really upscale stores, but the salespeople gave us strange looks from entrance to exit. I wasn't about to put Varon through that!

The odd language that Varon overheard is known as Pidgin English, or pidgin. The grammar structure is somewhat different from conventional English, and the words within pidgin are derived from MANY different languages. The inflections of the regular English words is also different. It's a very casual language, and it's not uncommon to hear families speak it among each other. I'm NOT saying that all the locals speak pidgin. Most of the people I know don't speak pidgin at all. There's an equal chance that Varon could have followed a group that spoke Japanese, proper English, or a mix of English and pidgin. The mention of pidgin was only meant as a local touch.

The bus system is very handy, but very inconvenient if ridden the wrong way. Varon's fate will be decided in the next chapter. I promise I won't have him cornered by a wall of screaming girls!

Last but not least, NO COUPLINGS! I needed an excuse for Varon to go shopping; I don't support ANY couplings, because I am a stick in the mud. So please don't get any ideas!! 


	6. Sweet Sweet Love Magic

Chapter 6: Sweet Sweet Love Magic 

Author's note, part uno:

NO ROMANCE! The title will be explained at the end of this chapter.

Again, no reviews, but that's because this is part 2 of 2 for today. Reviews will be kindly accepted AFTER this chapter.

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters/etc., any restaurants, any famous recipes, the song "Sweet Sweet Love Magic" (that is owned by Jun Wakita), any landmarks, or any nightclubs. Again, the only thing I own is myself (and I should appear in a chapter or two. . .if Amelda ever wakes up).

Onward!!

---

It was a few minutes before midnight, and Varon still hadn't returned. The shopping center he had gone to closed well before midnight. Raphael was a touch worried. He didn't want to be woken up in the middle of the night by a phone call from anyone. He didn't like it when his sleep was interrupted.

Two of the motorcycles would be ready tomorrow morning. It wouldn't have mattered if all three had been ready when Raphael had requested them; once Amelda fell asleep, nothing short of physical torture woke him up. Occasionally, torture didn't work, either.

Without warning, the phone rang. Raphael picked it up before it could irritate him again.

"Hey Raphael, it's me. Er. . .can you give me a lift? I think the buses stopped running." Raphael heaved a sigh. Varon had gotten lost.

"All right, where are you?" Raphael hoped that Varon had the sense to stay within Honolulu. He didn't feel like making a midnight trip out to Nanakuli, which looked pretty far away on the map the hotel had so graciously provided.

Raphael paused to make sure that he had heard Varon correctly. It was some sort of restaurant that was open 24 hours, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why anyone would name a restaurant. . .well, that.

Varon did his best to describe where the restaurant was located. Apparantly, it was located near a school of some sort. Varon might have to wait a while for the calvary to arrive. The name of the school sounded like it could be one of many on the island.

Raphael hopped on the motorcycle he had insisted on renting on the spot. It was nowhere near as awesome as the one back at home, but he couldn't complain. He packed a spare helmet and revved the engine. It echoed nicely in the concrete structure. With a roar, he went to find the lost Doom Warrior.

Though it was fairly late, the streets were still populated by several people. Some folk looked far more decent than others. Raphael did his best to follow the directions he had attempted to memorize. In moments, he was on a fairly large street. Nightclubs lined both sides of the street. He passed a gym to his right. It might be a good place to pass the time. He made a mental note of the gym, and rode on. . .

. . .and nearly collided with a group of kids that had decided to cross right in front of the gym. They couldn't see him glare through his helmet.

While stopped at one of the larger intersections, Raphael took the time to look around. The structure to his left look quite large. Could that be Ala Moana? From Varon's directions, he would need to travel in the opposite direction of the mall.

The street he had turned on wasn't as large as the one he left, but it was still respectable. He passed a dark temple on the left. It didn't seem to be on the list of places of interest (also provided by the hotel). Varon had mentioned a six-lane street that only allowed traffic in one direction. He turned. . .

. . .and nearly collided with six lanes of traffic. With a muffled curse, he turned around and followed the flow of traffic. Fortunately, the six lanes of traffic had been at a dead standstill.

He dodged several cars parked on the right. Horns blared. He ignored them. It felt just like home.

The place he stopped at was indeed open 24 hours, but it looked more like a convenience store than a restaurant. Perhaps Varon had gotten his description wrong.

Raphael entered the store, and immediately wished for his trenchcoat, which he had left back at the hotel. He was surprised that it did not snow within the store. Rows of items, some more familiar than others, lined the shelves. This wasn't where Varon was waiting. To be sure, he walked through the cosmetics section. Varon might have decided to stop off for some cosmetics for his lady love. Raphael knew that he'd find his woman someday. . .just not today.

The air outside felt wonderfully balmy. He restarted his motorcycle and resumed his search.

He decided that he went too far when he saw a copy center on the corner. Varon would have mentioned it, because there were many more of those at home. He turned down a street, and circled back.

The mysterious restaurant was on the right side of the street. Raphael had missed it completely the first time around. The school that Varon had mentioned was dark and empty. The parking lot looked like it could use a fresh coat of asphalt.

Raphael found a place to park well behind the restaurant. He entered, and immediately found himself face-to-face with a waiter. This wasn't the place.

The restaurant's name was right, but where was Varon? Motion caught his eye. Varon waved from a window. A tray of food sat in front of him. Varon motioned towards the right. Raphael had missed the door.

"What kept you, mate?" Varon asked casually. He ate from a cheap-looking container that held the restaurant's logo. A tree sat in the middle of the dining room. It was hardly sanitary.

"Oh, don't bother answering. Try the chili here. It's really good." Raphael took the spare fork he was offered, and took a good look at the chili. It looked like it was regurgitated chili. He took a tentative bite. . .

. . .and five minutes later, he had his own container of chili. Varon smiled mischievously. Raphael didn't care. The chili was indeed good.

"Ya think Amelda will want some?" Varon asked. Raphael shook his head. Varon laughed.

"That's the spirit!" the shorter Doom Warrior exclaimed. Some of the best things in life came in disposable containers.

Raphael's spirit was much lighter on the way back. The Leviathan could wait for its meal for one more day.

---

Author's note, part dos:

"Sweet Sweet Love Magic" is actually a description of the chili. It worked its magic on Raphael quite nicely. The chili isn't necessarily sweet. Don't bother with the bean jokes; they don't apply to this chili!

Varon wasn't paying much attention, because the buses run well past midnight. With food on his mind, it's not too surprising.

The six-lane one-way street does exist, and I've seen someone (NOT on a motorcycle) nearly turn the wrong way on it. The various other landmarks I mentioned also exist.

The copy center is part of a national chain. It's one of the few things in the area that's open past 10 P.M.

The store that Raphael accidentally stepped in isn't too far away from the restaurant. The store does get quite cold at night, for some unknown reason.

Speaking of the restaurant, only those from Hawaii will know where Varon wound up eating. For those of you not from Hawaii, ask about good places to eat chili at midnight. The restaurant's name (which is darned weird, I might add) should come up. While this could count as advertising, the restaurant chain is a local landmark, even if the hotel maps won't show it.

The next chapter will be narrated by Amelda, once he wakes up. If he wakes up before Christmas.


	7. Power Dream

Chapter 7: Power Dream

Author's note, part 1:

Yay! More reviews! Thank you Fifilafemme!! Here's some double fudge cookies. Keep laughing!

JC Maxwell-Yuy. . .IT'S ABOUT TIME YOU SHOWED UP! Merry Christmas!! I don't intend on duelling Amelda. . .that would be far too kind of me. . .hope you enjoy his alternate fate. . .

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters (and the latter WILL be appearing this time), any classrooms, any universities, any libraries, the King of Fighters or any of its "interesting" characters, any food dishes (except for the peanut butter cookies, which will be mentioned later), any of my friends, the song "Power Dream" (that belongs to Pink Pong), and/or any motocycles. The only other thing I own besides a platter of peanut butter cookies is me (and this time, I shall appear in the fic).

It's time for dj TRACY to take the stage. . .if I can only figure out how to wake Amelda up. . .

---

Something gently brushed his hand. Amelda's eyes opened a crack. Perhaps the maid. . .

. . .was actually a palm-sized roach crawling on his hand. Amelda swallowed his scream of terror and quickly ended the offending insect's life. He looked at the illuminated clock, which read 7:30 a.m. The motion sickness medicine (which didn't work), combined with a rough trip over, had kept Amelda asleep for well over 20 hours.

Amelda groggily went through his things and pulled out his usual Benimaru look-alike clothes. He hoped that the weather would clear up a little. The Doom Warriors were in Hawaii to escape the awful weather in California, not to relive it.

After a nice hot/cold shower and room service, Amelda felt a bit more like how he felt he should feel. He opened the door to leave, and immediately stopped. Raphael stood on the other side, poised to knock.

"You're NOT going out in that," the blond stated simply. Amelda looked down. No one had objected much in California. Raphael pointed over Amelda's shoulder. Amelda walked over to the window and took a peek outside.

Sheets of rain flowed against the window. The winds whipped the greenery in every direction that Amelda could think of, and a few he'd never imagined. Lightning lit up the scenery briefly. The rumble of thunder (or Raphael's stomach) followed a breath later.

"So what's a little. . .hey, where'd you go?" Amelda stared dumbly at the now-empty doorway. A gray shirt had found its way into his hands. With a resigned sigh, Amelda changed. Wet T-shirt contests were for girls, anyway.

A note fell out of the shirt. Amelda picked it up, and did his best to decipher the scribbles that passed for Raphael's handwriting. Most handwriting analysts would probably agree that Raphael needed serious therapy. Unfortunately, Amelda was not a handwriting analyst.

The note had a phone number and an address scratched on it. Out of boredom, Amelda tried the phone number. After a few minutes, Amelda wandered out of the hotel and into the storm. It was time to go to work.

The motorcycle that Raphael had reserved rode wonderfully well in the wet conditions. Amelda randomly chose a car, and tailed it. No one would notice if the driver of such an old car went missing.

Many crazy turns, intersections, and streets later, the car wove its way into a street stall and parked. Amelda looked at a nearby sign. The car had stopped at the local university. It was as good a place as any to find souls.

All the street parking was taken. Amelda circled the university several times before driving away. Things might be a little less crowded later. The rain, which had been kind enough to lay off during his ride over to the university, restarted. It had to be a sign. Amelda turned into one of the university parking lots.

His wallet was considerably lighter after the parking lot attendant had requested an exorbitant amount for parking. The parking lot he had chosen was across the street from the main campus. People milled around, and not a single person paid any attention to him. Perfect.

Once at the main campus, he wasn't sure where to start. The buildings all looked the same. Rather than choose now, he decided to go for a little walk. Maybe one of the buildings in back would be a good starting point.

One of the buildings on the busy campus was dark. Amelda took a closer look. Photographs lined the windows. A flood of some sort had washed through the library, and the pictures were from the flood's aftermath. He had remembered seeing something like that in the paper, but didn't bother to read further. Several other people also stared at the photographs, shock on their faces. Who knew that a little water could do THAT to a building?

A not-so-small cafe was stationed within a few steps of the library's entrance. Amelda stepped inside. The air conditioning chilled him to the bone. He'd left his trenchcoat in the motorcycle. The stand right next to the door sold hot things to drink. Amelda ordered one of them, paid for it, and quickly left. The wind outside was much warmer than the air within that horrid building.

Few people populated the open area, probably because of the drizzle that had stemmed from the rain. Instict guided him to a builing with a bamboo courtyard. A duelist awaited him. He discarded his empty cup and prepared a little surprise for everyone in the room he was about to walk into.

A platter of peanut butter cookies sat on the teacher's desk. The class had its full attention on the TV in the back. Almost all the people in the classroom were female. It was his lucky day. Bagpipes droned in the background. Absolutely perfect.

The souls of his unfortunate victims came quietly along. He did a quick head count. One of the heads in the classroom popped up. From the dazed look in her eyes, she had been sleeping through class. Amelda frowned, and tried again.

An extraordinary blast of heat broke his concentration. Two large fire dragons sat between him and the Leviathan's appetizer. The girl peeked out from behind the dragons. Her glasses sat crookedly on her near-nonexistent nose. Her oddly-cut black hair stuck out at various angles. The bags under her eyes were magnified by her thick glasses. She looked like she had come straight from some part of Asia. Of all the girls, she was probably the ugliest.

She stood in front of the dragons and looked around. She looked horribly anorexic. The only curves on her body came from her elbows and knees. The green shirt she wore clashed with everything in the room. She must be some sort of high school prodigy.

"I never thought I'd meet such an ugly duelist," Amelda taunted. The girl gave him a confused look.

Though he'd never really seen the dragons that took up half the room, he was confident that he could seal her soul easily enough. He took out his deck. . .

. . .only to feel another blast of searing heat, this time near his hands. The deck he had been holding had been turned into a pile of ash. The girl looked up at the dragons that towered over her.

"Thank you, both of you. And thank you, sir, for getting me out of my English final!" Before Amelda could comprehed what she had just said, she gave him a quick wink and ran out of the door. The two dragons glared at him and followed her obediently. He punched the wall in frustration. Now what was he supposed to do? He'd tie that girl to his motorcycle and deliver her to Dartz himself!

The girl, despite her starved look, walked extraordinarily fast. He followed her up two sets of stairs, and into a dirty-looking room.

The room had been transformed into a Duel Monsters convention. The two fire dragons he saw earlier danced with the Dancing Fairies. The Vampire Lord looked at something interesting at one of the tables. The Chaos Soldier sat off to the side, drinking what appeared to be a soft drink. Peten the Dark Clown juggled several objects including a Marshmallon. The Ultimate Baseball Kid, White Magician Pikeru, Toon Dark Magician Girl, Toon Gemini Elves, Mad Dog of Darkness, and Guardian Kay'est watched the clown's act, in awe. The Sacred Crane ate from a dish on the ground. Jinzo sat in a corner, inactive. In another corner, the Magic Canceller hummed merrily. One of the monsters stared right at Amelda - Thestalos, the Firestorm Monarch.

Several people were dispersed within the monsters, including that ugly girl. This was the perfect place to harvest souls, and he didn't have the right tools with him! The fire dragons growled at Amelda. He glared back.

"Tracy's Prominence Dragons don't like you. What did you do to them?" The speaker was male, but Amelda couldn't see him. If only he had his deck. . .

"Toon Gemini Elves, attack!" another male voice behind him commanded. Amelda turned around, just in time to see the elves trip over a Magic Cylinder. The momentum of their fall caused them to run into Peten, who dropped the Marshmallon, which landed on Pikeru, who began to cry. The Chaos Soldier looked up from his soft drink. He pointed. . .

. . .and Amelda found himself standing in the hotel's parking lot, with his motorcycle right next to him. He sighed and went back to his room, to nurse his burnt hands. He would come back with a deck, and he wouldn't stop duelling until he had the soul of every miserable person in that school!

---

Author's notes, part 2:

Well, that's my official introduction. It's precisely how a guy who doesn't like skinny Asian girls would describe me. Of course, that means that I'm going to have to dress a little better (and a little older, because I am NOT a high school prodigy) when I meet Amelda again. . .not that he deserves it. . .

Amelda: The only thing you'd look good in is a body bag.

Me: How badly do you want to appear in the next chapter IN A DRESS?

Amelda: Touchy, touchy.

The title "Power Dream" is my own explanation of what Dartz wants, but will probably never obtain fully. His three faithful minions are simply an extension of that wish. As for my comment about dj TRACY. . .all the titles in this chapter are related to a certain video game. . .I'll elaborate in the next chapter.

I was not exaggerating the size of the roach that was introduced in the second line of the fic. The cockroaches in Hawaii grow to gargantuan size, and they FLY.

Amelda's horrible threads on the series look like they came from another I-look-horrible-but-really-I'm-straight guy - Benimaru Nikkaido, from the King of Fighters series.

The people at the university I attend dress however the heck they want. I wandered around in my underwear (which was a tank top and bike shorts), and no one noticed. Amelda in a t-shirt and shorts wouldn't draw any attention, either.

The photographs in the library's windows were there when I saw them last, and the Hamilton Library still hasn't recovered from the flood that swept through the ground floor of the library on Halloween. The same flood also knocked out the UH servers for one day, which was NOT fun.

The Duel Monsters that were featured were the signature cards of me (the Prominence Dragons, Thestalos, and to some extent, the Ultimate Baseball Kid) and my friends (the rest of the monsters). The person that asked about my dragons is someone who I won't name. The person who ordered the Toon Gemini Elves to attack had best be enjoying his Christmas present.

The fate of my English class will be decided in the next chapter (which will be SHORT). . .which will by narrated by Dartz, of all people. It's going to be a very short chapter indeed. . . 


	8. PERFECTWORLD

Chapter 8 - PERFECTWORLD

Author's notes, front:

Thanks for the review, Blood Pony! Here's some of my mom's brandy snaps! They're really sweet!

No, it's NOT Hot Topic. That's on the third floor. This is a ground-level store, sort of.

I don't know how much I can write, because I've caught a cold and. . .

Amelda: HAHAHAHAHAHA!

. . .I've got work tomorrow. I've also got a LIFE, unlike a certain redheaded punk I know of. . .

Amelda: Liar.

Me: Unlike you, I also have to work on Christams Eve.

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters/really evil things, any Tums, or the song "PERFECTWOLRD" (that's owned by N.A.R.D. and masayo).

The explanation for my odd notes at the end of the second chapter will come AFTER this chapter.

---

The reception wasn't working again. Dartz kicked the base of the altar. The image dispersed into a speckly mess of black and white. Dartz used some of the better words he had learned from his minions. This couldn't be happening.

The brats from Domino City were slowly but surely tracing their way to his sacred temple (of sorts). His Doom Warriors were sending in souls at a snail's pace. At the rate they were going, they would be older than dirt before they got all the souls from Hawaii.

Dartz sighed and went up to the roof, to adjust the small antenna he'd put up there. Maybe the picture in the altar would work again.

The picture became clearer, but the transmission began to lag. He looked over the events of the past day, and chuckled. Raphael's sense of direction was as awful as ever. Varon's face was the cause of almost all of his problems. Amelda's thoughts were somewhere in his subconscious. Dartz growled. This was no time to be sleeping!

The transmission, which was meant to be much faster than the normal flow of time, suddenly began to pick up. From the little date-time stamp he'd included, the events he was watching happened a few hours ago. The weather in Hawaii was as foul as the weather outside. Amelda walked around an unknown location in a gray shirt. It was a drastic improvement.

Suddenly, a little "live" appeared at the upper-left corner. The transmission had caught up to real time. Amelda had successfully stolen a good number of souls, and they would be on their way over in no time. Dartz smiled to himself. At least one of his warriors was competent.

The Leviathan shifted. The souls from Hawaii must have finally made it over. The Leviathan's grumbling seemed a little different. It had consumed much bigger meals than this one. What did the big lunk want now?

Dartz glanced back at the image. A menagerie of Duel Monsters took up the screen. He blinked, then facefaulted when he saw what the "monsters" were doing. Peten was NOT supposed to be making anyone laugh! The Vampire Lord looked directly into the image for a brief moment before going back to whatever it was doing. The screen shifted over the Vampire Lord's shoulder. He was writing poetry. Dartz groaned.

Suddenly, the Leviathan pulsed. Were these souls the power that the Leviathan needed to fully awaken?

With a shuddering rumble, nineteen points of light left the Leviathan. The lights briefly regrouped before heading off in the general direction of Hawaii. Dartz screamed in rage. The Leviathan's delicate stomach had been upset again.

'I am not feeling myself today,' the Leviathan said mentally.

'I shall apologize on the behalf of my idiot warriors. Their offerings have upset your stomach again?'

'If that's what you call this awful feeling. I'm going to be on a liquid diet for the next two days.' The Leviathan's voice left his head. The former King of Atlantis kicked the wall. He'd best let his vacationing minions know about this.

'Hey. . .you FOOLS!' Three minds snapped to attention.

'Amelda's made the Leviathan sick again. It's on a liquid diet for the next two days. UNDERSTAND?' Two mental nods and a mental slap in the head answered him. It would suffice.

The image in the altar blinked out again. It was time to readjust the antenna.

---

Author's notes, back:

Dartz is as grouchy as ever!!

All the strange-looking quotes occurred within some poor people's minds, or excuses for minds.

The "PERFECTWORLD" is a reference to the reason why Dartz is collecting souls.

I couldn't very well let Dartz keep the souls of my English class, so I made the Leviathan give them back. They returned to normal shortly after the Leviathan spit them out.

As for my earlier comment about me being a DJ. . .I am a BIG fan of Beatmania IIDX, a series of video games that involves 7 keys and a little record-looking scratch. It's highly addicting, to the point where every single chapter is somehow related to Beatmania IIDX (most of them are song titles; Chapter 2 is the genre for the title of this story, which is also a song title). I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to make Varon waste $20 or so attempting that game. . .

Anyway, Chapter 9 should be on its way shortly. . .this time, it will be narrated by Raphael (I've tortured Varon enough. . .he gets a vacation). 


	9. earth scape

Chapter 9: earth scape

Author's notes, forward:

It's another double feature! I've got to chug this story out, and I don't have much time!

I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, anything related to it that I haven't bought, any dogs, any other strange animals, the song "earth scape" (that's owned by dj TAKA), or anything else that isn't me (and I WILL be making an appearance again).

On with the show!

---

Two days had passed. In those two days, Raphael had tried to be the typical tourist. Most of the tour packages didn't appeal to him. He wasn't interested in the tacky shows offered by some insincere workers. It didn't feel right. Instead, he had taken in as much of the natural scenery as he could, without getting lost. Hawaii's natural beauty was slowly being taken over by concrete.

He'd seen very little of his two companions since the Leviathan had gotten sick. Varon had probably gone to see the same shows that Raphael did his best to avoid. He didn't even want to think about where Amelda kept going off to.

The weather had cleared somewhat. The clouds were still present, but the blue sky shyly peeked out from beneath the white. In a few days, the weather would be postcard-perfect.

He'd read about the Nu'uanu Pali from one of the many brochures the hotel had dumped on him. It was supposed to be a beautiful cliffside that had once been the site of a bloody battle. The winds on the cliff were said to be strong. The location of the cliffs was remote enough for Raphael to consider bringing his own lunch. That's why he was stopped in front of a small Chinese shop that sold something that he'd discovered a taste for - manapua.

After putting his purchases in the seat of his motorcycle, Raphael zoomed off in the only direction the street would allow him to zoom in. The one-way streets of Hawaii were slowly but surely getting on his nerves.

The drive up to the Nu'uanu Pali was magnificent. While cruising down part of the highway, he passed an impressive pagoda. The news he had watched earlier had said that the pagoda was in danger of falling apart, but the structure stood solidly on his left.

A small sign that was supposed to measure speed sat unlit. It looked like it was out of commission. Not surprising, since many of the cars that passed him were going well above the posted speed limit.

A gaudy sign indicated that he was entering Nu'uanu. This looked to be a bigger waste of money than the defunct speed sign. The economy had to been good.

The highway suddenly broke into a more civilized stretch of road. Three lanes went towards his destination, and three more led towards Downtown Honolulu. It would be hard to get lost here!

The stoplights stayed green as he rode down the highway. Houses and other buildings lined both sides of the highway. He made a mental note of Queen Emma's Summer Palace. If he had time, he would return.

He turned at where he thought the Nu'uanu Pali would be located. The road that he had turned on was heavily shaded with various trees. Moss grew on the side of the road, and on the telephone posts. Houses broke through the shady trees at irregular intervals. Mosquitos buzzed merrily. He'd forgotten to bring mosquito repellent!

The trees became less infrequent as the houses became more frequent. Raphael got the feeling that he'd turned on the wrong road.

He stopped at an intersection and took a look at the street names. None of them looked familiar. Once again, he was lost. With nothing better to do, he drove on. He had more than enough gas to find his way out of this mess!

The sinewy street he was on suddenly took a sharp, dark turn. Raphael slowed down as much as he could and cautiously went around. Cars were parked haphazardly. Turning around in such an area could prove to be very hard indeed.

He thought he heard a dog bark. He stopped and listened. The barking occurred again. This time, it had company. It also sounded like it was coming closer.

A mangy dog stopped right behind his motorcycle. It looked up at Raphael. One ear flopped down; the other one was missing. Then it began to bark. In moments, at least five other dogs appeared around the corner. Raphael didn't want to stick around to see how many more dogs lived in the neighborhood. He was gone with a roar. Barking followed him.

Off to his right, a construction site loomed. It was as good a place as any to hide. He quickly steered his bike passed the temporary toilet that stood in front of the construction site. . .

. . .and swallowed a scream. The road he had taken had taken a sudden dip down. It took everything he had to control his descent. A stone wall loomed in front of him. He braked, and prayed that he wouldn't end up as a smear on the wall. The bike stopped well short of the aforementioned wall. Raphael breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, we don't get many visitors down here. Who are you?" The speaker gave him a quizzical look. She wore a black prep shirt with a long skirt and sneakers. A HUGE backpack rested on her shoulders. Wide brown eyes regarded him behind glasses. A small smile touched her lips. The smile accented her high cheekbones. She wasn't unpleasant to look at. . .but she could definitely use a few self-improvement classes.

Raphael opened his mouth to say something, than shut it again. He wasn't here for small talk. He needed to get out of this place, wherever it was, and the sooner the better. The mosquitos were having a field day with his hands.

He had to do something he really hated. Something that took true courage. Something that took all his rapidly-failing nerve. He had to ask for directions.

He looked at her, then looked away and blushed. Of all the people in the world, he had to ask for directions from a girl! He looked back at her shyly. Curiosity danced in her eyes.

"You definitely aren't my friend. Your chest is all wrong." He blinked several times. Where did she get THAT comment from? She looked at him and giggled.

"My. . .chest?" he asked. His chest was nicely muscled. What kind of chest was she referring to?

"Yes. Your chest is too small," she added. He stepped back. What did she mean by that?

"So, how big is your friend's chest?" A little voice within told him that he MIGHT not want to know the answer to that question.

She told him.

His nose bled.

She laughed.

He glared.

She offered him some napkins, which he gladly took. He hadn't been expecting an answer like that. She could've just said that her friend was female.

"Would it be safe to assume that you're lost?" she asked. He nodded.

The directions she gave were ridiculously simple. It seemed that he hadn't wandered too far from the main road. He thanked her and drove off.

In three minutes, he was back on the main highway. It was time to find those cliffs.

--

Author's notes, backward:

"earth scape" was meant to describe the cliffs. . .which Raphael never got to go to. Oh well.

Manapua is better known as dim sum. Dim sum also goes by the name of meat bun. It's a sweet white bun filled with meat, usually pork. This little detail will come up in a future chapter.

I finally spelled something correctly! Nu'uanu is the area I live in. The Nu'uanu Pali, which translates to Nu'uanu Cliffs, are less than ten minutes away from my house by car.

The battle at the Pali Lookout (as it's known) is outlined on a little sign near the lookout. The Pali Lookout can also get VERY windy. Be careful.

The dogs described in the story do wander around my neighborhood, and one of them is missing an ear. The one-eared dog likes to chase people, cars, etc. It in turn is chased by the other dogs. Raphael was unlucky enough to get caught in the middle.

Raphael made it to my driveway, but not into my house. My mother would have chased him out with a broom, then yelled at me. Go figure. At least he described me in a nicer light. . .I shudder to think of what Varon will say. . .

I asked my friend for permission before using her chest size in this fic. I don't plan on divulging it, though. Let's just say that she beats Mai and then some.

That's all for me tonight. The next chapter will be narrated by--

Varon: ME! Don't let the crazy redhead anywhere near the next chapter!

Me: Okay, I get the point.

Reviews are always welcome. 


	10. Lying on the Bench

Chapter 10: Lying on the Bench

Author's notes, before:

I'm a bit late. . .sorry. I felt lazy.

Anyway, on with the disclaimers, since the reviews ran out about the same time as my cookie list!

I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, anything else related to Yu-Gi-Oh! that doesn't go for $4 a pack, any parks, any shave ice stores, any movie theaters, any horrible arcades, any arenas, any basketball teams, or the song "Lying on the Bench" (which is owned by positive MA, who made it for the Beatmania series, not the Beatmania IIDX series), or anything else that isn't me.

Excuse me, my dinner calls.

---

It was two days of semi-normalcy. Most other tourists would have been spending their money on the nearest tourist traps they could find. Varon was an exception to this rule.

He looked up at the ceiling of his hotel room, and did his best to ignore the muffled screams coming through the wall. Amelda had probably found another roach in his room.

The past two days had been spent as if he wasn't a tourist. On the first day, he had overheard a conversation about a treat known as shave ice. More curious than anything, he kept listening to the conversation. One of the speakers gave very detailed directions to "one of the best shave ice stores on the island".

Because of the location of the store, he had elected to keep his motorcycle in the hotel's parking lot. Parking in that area was supposed to be tight.

The stand was nearly empty. This wasn't surprising, because the sky looked as gray as the apartment buildings surrounding the stand. The stand had an amazing amount of flavors available. It had taken him a good fifteen minutes to decide on the "rainbow" shave ice.

As soon as he got his order, he heard giggling. Another group of high school girls had spotted him. He didn't want another following! A family of five stood between him and the Wall of Giggles. They had just gotten their order, which included some sort of red bean paste. No traffic moved on the streets. He slipped between two parked cars and ran across the street. A squeal indicated that one of the girls had seen his escape. He stood on the corner, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

A child screamed. One of the girls had stepped on a small foot. Through a car window, Varon saw the child lurch forward. The red and green shave ice the child had been holding found its way onto another girl's white shirt. She in turn launched her purple and orange shave ice at the mother of the family. The mother dodged, but the person standing behind her wasn't so lucky. As the people at the stand attempted to sort out the icky mess, Varon quietly walked away.

Varon walked away from the shave ice stand, and into a park. Few people populated the massive park. According to a sign, the park had once been a football stadium. It explained why the park was so darned big. Varon finally found a bench, and. . .

. . .noticed the multicolored drips down his hand. He'd grabbed quite a few napkins from the stand, and desperately mopped the mess. A couple of children ran in front of him, and slid, then became stuck in the sticky syrup. They tore themselves free of the sidewalk and continued to run.

The "rainbow" shave ice wasn't bad at all. The banana (yellow) was far sweeter than a normal banana. The vanilla (blue) went very well with the strawberry (red). The colors in between transitioned the flavors nicely.

The shave ice would have been perfect if he could have just gotten the empty cone off of his hand. Five minutes of water finally unstuck the stubborn thing. His hand felt numbed to the bone.

The local college baskteball team was supposed to play tonight. The game was set to start in a couple of hours. Feeling adventurous, Varon walked in the direction of the university. His little mishap on the bus earlier in the week had shown him a good portion of the neighborhood, including the location of the university. It had taken him a few hours to walk from the terminus to the restaurant where he eventually met Raphael, but the walk had been worth it. He could find his way around this part of the island blindfolded.

As he walked up the main street, he saw that this neighborhood wasn't meant for tourists. Small restaurants catering in "local food" littered the area. A baseball field was located right behind a supermarket. To be more precise, the baseball field was located right behind the garden shop, which looked like it kept its fertilizer in the back.

The road became a large four-and-a-half-way intersection. Varon crossed two and a half roads to get to the side where the university was supposed to be located. More restaurants advertised their wares. The fare was mulitcultural, but the Greek restaurant wouldn't be open for another hour.

The sky finally fulfilled its threat of rain. The heavens opened up. People hunched down and ran for the nearest shelter. Varon didn't mind the rain too much. It was much warmer than the rains in California.

Several girls sighed at him from the open-ended restaurant near one of the bus stops. They looked like they were in college. While they were a bit closer to his age, they still didn't interest him. The one he wanted wasn't coming to Hawaii anytime soon.

After battling the rain, Varon finally made it to the university. Unfortunately, he didn't have a clue as to where the basketball arean was located. He walked further up the road he was on, in hopes of finding something to help him.

His help came in the form of a large map, posted near a bus stop. The arena was a good distance away. He rolled his eyes and walked back in the direction he came from. While he didn't exactly pride himself on his sense of direction, he knew that he could find his way around anything faster than Amelda with a map. . .or Raphael, period.

The person behind the ticket window gave him an odd look, but admitted him into the game. He walked in, amazed at the severe lack of attendance. Didn't the local support their own basketball team?

After losing a LOT of money at the concession stands, Varon took his dinner and found his seat. In a few moments, he understood why the arena was mostly empty. It was a women's basketball game.

He was sorely tempted to walk out, but he didn't want to waste his money. He sighed and settled in. It couldn't be all that exciting.

The loudest thing in the arena, by far and away, was the air horn that blew after every time out. The second-loudest thing was the band. That is, the band when they weren't playing. Varon found himself chuckling at a few of the "interesting remarks" the band had for the other team. He kept a couple in memory. He'd find a way to irritate Amelda with them.

The game was surprisingly close. No team led the other by more than five points. The game was a tug-of-war, which finally ended with the home team winning. The band let their feelings be known through their cheering. They let their opinion of the other team be known through their playing. About half the band was audible; the other half HAD to be there for decoration.

Varon left the arena feeling much better than he thought he would. The food from the concession stands didn't make him sick. The game had been refreshingly exciting. Life was good.

The rain had increased in volume a thousandfold. Thunder boomed, and the winds howled angrily. Life had just took a downward turn.

Rather than walk back, Varon decided to wait at one of the stops he'd seen earlier in the week. He wasn't sure what buses stopped there, but he knew that they had to go somewhere. It didn't take long for a bus to appear. It was headed straight for Waikiki. With a grin, Varon hopped on.

The bus was kind enough to stop a few minutes away from the hotel. Varon slid off and frowned at the sky. The rain had slackened, but only a little. His hair hung limper than. . .he didn't bother to finish the thought.

He was thoroughly soaked by the time he entered the hotel's lobby. Several other wet people milled about. He made a beeline to the elevators, and took a hot shower once he got back to his room. He ignored the screams from the other side of the wall. Raphael's room must not have been bug-free, either.

The second day was far less memorable than the first. He'd gone to catch a movie, then went to the arcade that sat next to the theater. The movie theater didn't seem different from home, and the arcade chain existed back in California. What a waste of time.

Something moved on the ceiling. It was a baby gecko. The gecko lost its grip on the ceiling and fell.

One more set of screams echoed through the hotel.

---

Author's note, after:

That came out quite a bit longer than I intended. Now, for a whole load of explanations. . .

"Lying on the Bench" is a very lazy song. It's also a very simple song, and one that's often overlooked. Varon's vacation was actually more like what a local family might do over the weekend. It's definitely NOT something that is widely advertised!

The shave ice stand is part of a small store located smack in the middle of a residential area. It's a local favorite, and probably the best one in Honolulu. Across the street from that store is Stadium Park, a stadium converted into a park. The stadium, which was nicknamed "Termite Palace", was torn down. . .because of termites.

Varon's wacky shave ice is an actual menu item, and one that is found in just about any shave ice store. I personally haven't tried it (as I prefer the non-carbonated cherry and cola flavors).

Shave ice syrup, once it has had a chance to dry, is about as adhesive as super glue. It also does BAD things to white shirts. Then again, Varon isn't the type to wear a white shirt. . .

The shave ice sold just about anywhere also comes with optional ice cream and azuki beans (the former is delicious; I don't intend on putting red beans on MY shave ice). The particular stand that Varon visited also offers custard, li hing powder (which is an ACQUIRED taste), condensed milk, and chocolate syrup, all at a nominal price. Other stores will also offer a selection of some of those items (as well as gummy bears, though I don't think that store is in business any more).

The baseball field is used for local baseball games, and becomes a scary morass when it rains. The grocery store in front of the field is cold enough to deep-freeze lava.

The women's basketball games can be exciting. Sometimes, they're more exciting than the men's games. I figured I'd mention that, because most people prefer to watch men's basketball.

To my band: I'm sorry. The bands at the basketball games are REALLY good. Unfortunately, Varon isn't a good music critic. . .but he did get the band's wisecracks down.

The last part about the baby gecko stems from a little story by my mom. According to her, a woman who is (un)lucky enough to have a baby gecko land on her will get pregnant soon. Fortunately, Varon is not a woman. I do not know what happens to guys in that situation.

I think it's time I let Amelda out of the storage room I've kept him in for the past two days. He'll be narrating, and I promise that he didn't stay in his room for two days straight.

Reviews are welcome. 


	11. Narcissus at Oasis

Chapter 11: Narcissus at Oasis

Author's notes:

Whew! It's almost over. This is almost the final installment of this fic. Then again, it IS a Christmas present. . .

Thank you LeDiva! Here's some. . .hmm. . .no, those are illegal. . .ermm. . .ah. . .gingerbread cookies!!!! Enjoy the fic and the cookies!

I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters/etc., any cameras, any scenic spots, any Christmas lights and/or decorations, any buildings, any mountains, the song "Narcissus at Oasis" (that is owned by ryu, and the explanation for this is going to be a bit long), or anything else that isn't me (and I will spare Amelda the pain of looking at me for this chapter).

Amelda: You're only doing this because it's Christmas Eve.

Me: I could always have you overeat my mom's secret cookie recipe, even if you are underage.

Amelda: MMPH! I'm outta here!

---

Two days of sheer tourism. Amelda felt like a total moron. He was supposed to be destroying the world, NOT wandering around like a. . .tourist!

The beaches were hardly a place to go. The weather was still drizzly, and that made the sand all the more curdly. He overheard a couple saying that the sand in Waikiki wasn't real. Whatever that meant.

Instead, he had invested in a disposable camera. The walls of his room were a bit bare, and a few "intersting" pictures from Hawaii ought to brighten things up. It was his Christmas present to himself.

Amelda looked at the camera in his hands. He would wait until he reached California to develop his film. It was probably cheaper. In two days, he had logged more miles on his motorcycle than the other two Doom Warriors combined (Raphael's aimless wandering included).

The first day didn't take him very far. Some of the film held pictures of bits of artwork that some soul had painted on the sides of what should have been drab industrial buildings. If that type of artwork had been on a canvas, it would probably go for a small fortune.

He'd also taken pictures of a few amusing license plates. The cars were parked, and the drivers were nowhere to be seen. It wasn't his fault.

Hawaii, the place renown for its exotic beauty, did not contain a single woman that Amelda felt was photo-worthy. The majority of them were overweight. Most of the remainder painted the beauty on their faces. The rest were in elementary school. Some of the first two categories travelled arm-in-arm (or worse) with who he assumed were their boyfriends. On occasion, a boy would give him a funny look before distracting his girlfriend in a way that nauseated Amelda. He idly wondered if that would count as harassment.

On his way back into Waikiki, Amelda had taken pictures of the Christmas lights that decorated the business district. The award for gaudiest Christmas lights was a close call between the electric company and the newspaper company a few blocks away. The award for gaudiest Christmas decorations went to the city hall. Those decorations featured Santa and his wife with their feet in the fountain that ran near the hall. Santa's wife wore a casual dress that seemed to be unique to Hawaii.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been paying as much attention to the roads as he should have, and his motorcycle was "blessed" by what appeared to be a "present" left by a horse. The horse-drawn carriages looked like they were a part of the Christmas festivities. The smell lingered well into Waikiki.

The second day of photography had taken him around the island (almost). He had traveled to the northwestern point on Oahu, then took a picture of the extraordinarily gray clouds that hung over an angry ocean. On the way back, he took pictures of the vast pineapple fields and a shave ice store he had somehow run into. The shave ice had been wonderfully refreshing, but the line had made him sorely wish for the ability to feed the Leviathan. He'd also bought a t-shirt from the store, but he couldn't quite explain why. It almost felt like his little brother had wanted something, too.

On his way back, an old woman dressed in white looked like she wanted a ride. Amelda wasn't about to share his motocycle with an old woman! As he looked in his side mirror, he saw her face, clear as ever, gazing at him. He shrugged it off and moved on.

The final spot on his little road trip had been up one of the taller mountains on the island. The view was supposed to be magnificent. Instead, all he got were a bunch of storm clouds over the valley. This spot looked like it would be the absolute perfect place for a Hawaiian sunset (because the sunsets on the beach weren't worthy of his film).

His helmet had needed a good cleaning after the second day. The combination of sea salt and suicidal bugs had forced him to ride back from the shave ice store without a helmet. Fortunately, the cops were not out and about. He was somewhat thankful that he had stuck to t-shirts over the past couple of days. No one paid much attention to him.

A scream came from a nearby room. It sounded like Varon had finally been introduced to the monstrous bugs in Hawaii. They were almost big enough to be Duel Monsters. However, they didn't have anywhere near the attack strength to qualify as anything.

Something bit his arm. He swatted at the offending critter, but it escaped. The massive swarms of bugs were another reason why a t-shirt was far superior to a belly top. He didn't need mosquito bites on his stomach!

Something else buzzed. It flew around the light fixture before settling on it. This bug looked like it could eat a gecko. Its antennae were well over half the size of a CD. It was the biggest roach that Amelda had ever seen.

He screamed unabashedly.

---

Author's notes, again:

The coast of Waikiki wasn't always a sandy beach. A couple of hundred years ago, it was nothing but scrubland. Sand had to be imported, and the rest is history.

Amelda's first day had actually taken him a good distance. The artwork I'm referring to appears on a couple of buildings near the airport, and that's a fair distance from Waikiki. Artwork can also be seen on at least one building in Downtown Honolulu and in a few places in Waikiki. . .and one rather odd store in the area Varon went wandering in.

The license plates can be anything from amusing to raunchy. Vanity plates can have up to six letters/numbers and one or two spaces/dashes. No obvious obscenity is allowed. It doesn't sound like much, but it's more than enough for most people. I'll leave the license plates that Amelda photographed to you, the reader.

I do NOT know why this happens, but there have been several occasions when a high-schoolish girl would look at me before turning to her boyfriend and "distracting" him. It has always irritated me, and it wouldn't surprise me if a few guys did the same. If only Amelda were able to steal souls. . .

The Christmas displays will be more thoroughly explained later. So will his run-in with the old woman.

The first stop on Amelda's second day is the western "tip" of Oahu. It's Kaena Point, and on a good day, it offers a gorgeous view. Too bad the weather's being uncooperative.

Amelda's trip to the shave ice store was actually WELL out of his way. It's THE shave ice store to go to, if one has the patience to wait in a line that stretches for half a block. The store also sells shirts, mugs, and other small things. I will leave the store unnamed, for my own purposes.

Amelda's final stop was Lover's Lane, which is near the summit of Tantalus. Tantalus is a mountain that overlooks Manoa, and the view off of Lover's Lane is postcard-perfect. At night, Lover's Lane proves its name. Tantalus, despite being a residential area, is also a popular spot for nocturnal racing. The hairpin corners are VERY hard to navigate on a wet day.

Last but not least, "Narcissus at Oasis" features a video of. . .pictures. The Greek myth of Narcissus involves an image. The song itself is very peaceful, but very fast-paced.

Varon gets the next chapter, because he's cool like that. Right?

Reviews eternally welcome. 


	12. Don't Stop!

Chapter 12: Don't Stop!

Author's notes:

Hey! Two more reviews! Thank you Aisha-chan and Fifilafemme! Since it's STILL Christmas, I'm handing out snickerdoodles! Enjoy!!

This is it. The final installment of my Christmas present. This is gonna take a while. . .Christmas DOES end a bit later in Hawaii than it does in the rest of the world. . .

I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters, anyone that has appeared in a myth, any food, any motorcycles, the song "Don't Stop!" (that's dj TAKA feat. JP Miles), any cars, or my own cell phone (as I'm NOT paying for it). Again, the only thing I own is myself (and I'm appearing again. . .sorry, folks).

Let's GO!

---

The drive up the Pali Highway would have been relaxing, if the other drivers followed the speed limit. Varon swore under his helmet as yet another car sped by at what seemed to be double the posted speed limit. The Leviathan had recovered, and the first person who made the mistake of hitting him would pay with their soul. . .and then their wallet!

Raphael said that lunch/dinner at the Nu'uanu Pali had been the most enjoyable experience on the trip so far. He'd talked Amelda into taking a picture of the cliffs. Varon was stuck bringing lunch. He'd chosen manapua, because they were dirt cheap.

Suddenly, Varon's engine began to sputter. The cars behind him swerved desperately. He had do something quickly, because the bus that was coming up behind him didn't look like it was going to stop in time. A small fork in the road presented itself. He turned, and managed to pull up to the curb before his engine died altogether.

The bus didn't take the hint.

Varon swore again as the bus passed far too close to him for comfort. The bus stopped directly in front of him. A plume of smoke made Varon grateful that he hadn't removed his helmet. Something jumped off the bus. The bus started to move again. The helmet kept most of the smoke out of his lungs. The figure sat at the bus stop, completely intent on something in its hands.

Varon did a quick check of his motorcycle, but nothing seemed out of order. Out of frustruation, he kicked the nonresponsive vehicle. Something disturbed his peripheral vision. He took off his helmet, and stared.

She (?) wore a bulky jacket, loose jeans, and sneakers. Varon based his analysis of the person's gender on the face that gave him a quizzical look. The person spoke. It was definitely female. And irritating.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, occasionally glancing at the object in her hands, which appeared to be a cell phone. A cell phone in four parts.

The others would probably be at the Nu'uanu Pali, waiting for their lunch, which was currently stuck in the middle of a residential district. The only person he'd seen that wasn't in a moving vehicle couldn't call for help. He wasn't sure what to say. A mosquito bit him.

"Hmm? Why are the mosquitos congregating around your motorcycle?" she asked. Did she ever stop asking questions? She'd be better company if she could do something about that squeaky voice. It was about as irritating as Amelda's voice.

Against his better judgement, Varon opened the seat of his motorcycle and took out the box containing lunch. The girl took a sniff of the air, then gave him a horrified look.

"You DARED to take pork over the Pali? No wonder your motorcycle stopped working!" This was the first time he'd heard anything like that. He gave her the same look he would give, say, a space alien.

"Judging by your complexion, I'd say you're not from around here. Legend goes that taking pork to the Nu'uanu Pali is a bad thing, because your vehicle will break down. We're still a good distance from the cliffs," she added. He hadn't had time to brush up on the local mythology. She reached for the boxes. He snatched them away.

"They're not for you," he told her briskly. She nodded.

"Who are they for?" she asked. Again.

"My friends," he responded. She arched an eyebrow.

"How many friends? That's enough to feed an army."

"Just two." He was getting mighty tired of her questions.

"Where are they?" she asked, for the umpteenth time.

"At the Nu'uanu Pali," he answered, hopefully for the last time.

"Hmm. . .please wait a bit. . ." she muttered. He had no idea what she had in mind. Her cell phone was still in pieces. In moments, it had transformed into one piece. She punched several more buttons than seemed necessary.

"Hi mom, it's me. Can I borrow the car? Yes, I KNOW you can't leave the house, but I can drive. I promise I won't crash it. No, I won't be gone long. Yes, I have my license. I'll be home in about ten minutes." She stopped the conversation. She was old enough to drive?

"Looks like you're in luck. My mom is stuck at home, so I've got the car to myself. However, you are leaving your lunch with your motorcyle." He'd just gotten a ride out of Nowheresville. He wasn't about to complain.

"I'll be back in about ten minutes. Please sit tight," she added. With a wave, she disappeared into the valley. The mosquitos buzzed hungrily. He hastily put the manapua back into the motorcycle. He also locked the motorcycle. If she didn't come back, he could always catch the bus she had hopped off of.

She returned before the bus did, in a white sports car. It looked like one of many others on the island. She wore a malicious grin on her face. He thought about bringing his helmet, but decided against it. With that expression on her face, the only thing that could save him would be a full suit of armor. He regarded the flowery seats with disgust before hopping in.

The traffic must have sensed a psychotic driver on the road, because no cars went up the Pali Highway. She made it onto the highway smoothly.

The road to the Nu'uanu Pali wasn't far from the place his motorcycle had quit doing its job. The side of the road didn't look like the safest place to be walking. The small road that she turned on looked like it belonged in a horror movie. So did the figure that appeared in the trees. He looked again. The figure was gone. He'd best keep that to himself!

The parking lot looked like a mess of asphalt. Two motorcycles were parked near the exit. They hadn't left.

Raphael read a small sign near the railing. Amelda's camera clicked merrily. It was his third or fourth one in three days.

Raphael arched an eyebrow as Varon exited from the car. His other eyebrow went up as he saw the driver of the car. Amelda turned. He dropped his camera, which broke with a merry crash.

"YOU RUINED MY DECK!" the redhead screamed. A few other tourists looked at Amelda, then looked back at the view. The latter was far prettier. Bits of blue sky peeked out of the clouds. The wind whipped the remainder of Amelda's camera off of the cliff.

"Uh. . .sorry?" she asked/apologized. Raphael shook his head. Varon stared at the girl in shock. First a driver, and now a duelist? Dartz had mentioned that he preferred the souls of duelists. He reached for his deck. . .

. . .and felt an incredible wave of heat. Two Prominence Dragons stood between him and the girl, who looked puzzled.

"You. . .know each other?" she asked. When would she stop?

"If I knew you could duel, I would have taken your soul," Raphael said, somewhat sadly. Did she know all of them? The Prominence Dragons growled. Amelda glared.

"Well. . .I'm sorry. . .but I don't duel for anything but fun." Well, that was a consolation. She was probably a weak duelist. Her soul wouldn't have helped the Leviathan much.

"I'm hungry. Where's lunch?" Amelda demanded. Varon looked down, a bit embarrassed.

"My motorcycle broke down. . .and she wouldn't take it with her. . ." he stammered out.

"I had a wonderful lunch up here yesterday," Raphael commented.

"That was probably cat meat," the girl retorted. Raphael's face momentarily turned an extraordinary shade of green. He swallowed hastily.

"Cat. . .meat? That doesn't taste anything like pork!" Amelda stated. How would he know?

"It's just a possibility. Madame Pele might have taken a liking to you. But what do I know of a goddess' tastes in men?" Varon was fairly certain that the other two Doom Warriors hadn't bothered to learn about the local myths, either.

"Where IS your motorcycle," Raphael asked, his face back to its normal color. The girl smiled merrily.

"Well. . .follow me!" Varon's eyes had been taking in the extraordinary view from the lookout point. The view was beyond extraordinary. Houses dotted the green valley below. An odd-looking island sat off in the distance. He sorely wished for a camera. From the sound of the clicks, Amelda had brought another camera with him.

Raphael started his motorcycle. Amelda took the hint and started his. The girl started her car, which did not make any sort of impressive noise. Varon sighed. If only his motorcycle hadn't quit. . .

The drive back was as short as the drive to the cliffs. In a few minutes, they were back in the residential area. Varon took out the manapua from his motorcycle, and breathed a silent sigh of relief when he saw that the bugs were absent.

"I'd best go home before my mom gets worried. Your motorcycle should start once you're done eating. Have a nice day!" She winked and started to leave. In a move that looked like it had very little thought behind it, Amelda stood in front of the car.

"You're not leaving until you get me a new deck," he stated. She gave him a small smile.

"Well, I guess I would owe you if you had really gotten me out of my English final. But the people you knocked out were up and about on campus half an hour later, so I don't think I owe you anything," she said, in one breath. Amelda crossed his arms over his chest. The redhead was asking for trouble. A bright ringtone broke the standoff.

"Hi mom. . .yes, I'm at the entrance to the valley, but I've encountered a bit of trouble. Do you want to speak to him? Okay. . .here," she said, as she handed her phone to Amelda.

"Your stupid girl ruined my deck. . .I don't live here. . .I'm not going to give you my phone number. . .AND I AM NOT HITTING ON YOUR DAUGHTER!" Amelda's face turned a very lively shade of red. Raphael laughed. Varon nearly choked on his lunch. It was about time someone put Amelda in his place.

"With good reason? What is that. . .you mean the two of you TALK to each other. . .she works at a where? Her boss. . .what, is this meet the parents? I SAID I AM NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR DAUGHTER! Does she even know half of this? That's it, I'm hanging up!" Amelda angrily gave the phone back to the girl.

"I'd say that my mom was playing matchmaker again, wasn't she?" the girl asked, with a big grin on her face. Amelda's face went white, then extremely red.

"You KNEW? What is wrong with your family?!" Amelda grabbed the last manapua and munched, which was probably a good move. Varon had trouble breathing between his giggles. This girl's mother sounded really cool. Off to the side, Raphael's face had gone red from laughing.

"I. . .think it's time. . .to leave," Raphael gasped out. Amelda had finally finished eating. The girl was long gone. His motorcycle had mysteriously started. Varon had to admit, life was good.

---

Author's notes:

SORRY MOM! I couldn't resist. . .

The title "Don't Stop!" could either be interpreted as Varon's final plea to his motorcycle, or to Varon and Raphael's silent wish that my cell phone batteries never, ever die.

Yep, I'm old enough to drive, and I duel. Varon's assessment of me as a duelist wasn't too far off. I'd probably give the Leviathan a massive case of indigestion.

The figure in the trees that Varon saw is a ghost that's been known to hang around that area of the Nu'uanu Pali. Lucky for him, I wasn't looking.

Madame Pele is one of the local goddesses, and she's been known to ask for rides, either in the form of a beautiful young woman with long, flowing, black hair or an old lady dressed in white. Local legend also says that she doesn't allow pork on the Nu'uanu Pali.

The crack about cat meat is still under debate.

I will NOT put my mom's side of the conversation in this fic. She's reading these chapters, and she will ground me for the rest of my life if I put her words in this story.

The next chapter will be a potpourri. . .and I'll finally introduce several characters that everyone is familiar with. . . 


	13. Caldera

Chapter 13: Caldera

Author's notes:

It's the next chapter! Looks like this one might be a belated gift. . .

I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, the song "Caldera" (that belongs to CALF, a.k.a. Slake) or anything that isn't me.

'Nuff said.

---

Dartz glared at the picture behind the altar. He had company, and he hadn't bothered to clean up properly!

Several high school brats stood at the entrance to his abode. Mai stood between them and the door. He wasn't sure how long she'd keep them out. A very angry pharoah challenged her. The reception flickered out again.

Dartz kicked the base of the altar. The image returned. Footsteps echoed through the hall. The previous scene had happened well over half an hour ago.

"Hey. . .where IS everyone," the annoying blond asked. Dartz silently wondered if all blondes were annoying.

"They're right here," Dartz said happily, as the transmission flickered to his Doom bikers. The little date stamp on the bottom indicated that these images were a bit old.

Varon sat in an arena, watching a basketball game. A women's basketball game. Everyone, including Dartz, sweatdropped. The image flickered again.

Amelda waited patiently in line at a store. His fingers twitched every now and then. The sweatdrops became bigger.

Raphael stood in front of a slip of a girl. Black was definitely not her color. He looked at her, then looked down, then looked back at her, then turned away and blushed. Everyone hit the floor hard.

"Your henchmen are. . .on vacation?!" the pharoah exclaimed, shock making his voice rise higher than it should have.

"Yes, and it seems that one of them has taken a liking to skinny young girls." Dartz turned and grinned at the one female in the group. She shuddered.

"Not in a million years," she said bravely.

"We found this on your doorstep," the boy with the brown hair said, and held up a postcard. The back was blank, save for the address, which looked like it was in Varon's handwriting. Dartz turned the card around.

A muscular man of Polynesian descent grinned back at him. Words broke the disturbing view. It stated simply, "I thought you'd like it." Dartz set the postcard aflame. As soon as Varon stepped off of the plane. . .

The screen shifted to an airport. Seto Kaiba's distinct plane circled around a landing strip. This time, the voice transmissions worked.

"Sir, we are NOT allowing you to land that thing at our airport. It does not comply with FAA regulations!" the air traffic controller insisted.

"I need to refuel. Do your stupid FAA regulations allow for that?!" Kaiba yelled. In back, Mokuba cringed.

"Your vehicle does not comly with FAA regulations, so the regulations concerning refuelling do NOT apply!" another voice stated firmly.

"I am Seto Kaiba of Kaiba Corporation, and if you do NOT comply, I am buying this entire state!" Everyone looked around, puzzled.

"Well, Mr. Kaiba, if you really are Mr. Kaiba, THEN WHY AREN'T YOU SHIPPINIG YOUR DUEL DISKS TO HAWAII?" another voice insisted. It sounded like the voice of a frantic mother.

"Because morons like you inhabit the island," he responded coldly.

"We'll let you refuel if and only if you ship a thousand of your duel disks to Hawaii!" That mother must be looking for Christmas gifts for her children.

"Very well. Mokuba, radio HQ and tell them to send a shipment to Hawaii," Kaiba growled. The Blue Eyes White Jet landed gracefully. The scene fizzled out.

Dartz was silently impressed. It took guts to negotiate with the president of a large company. And despite his previous assessment, the people in Hawaii had found it in their hearts to let that freaky jet land on their territory.

The image behind the altar slowly came to life. In moments, a woman with flowing black hair appeared on the screen.

"I've had enough of your meddling!" she said through gritted teeth. She looked at everyone in the room with eyes akin to a smoldering caldera.

"MY meddling? You're the one on MY altar," Dartz growled. He did NOT like unannounced guests.

"You tried to take the souls of the residents of Hawaii. They may be foreigners, but THEY are the ones that help to keep my people alive. I do not like the foreigners, but I cannot change history. Your haole buddies can't tell who is what. They will continue to take until nothing is left. That is the way of the haole, and I've had enough of it!" The woman's eyes narrowed. Dartz wore a small smile.

"Pele, is it not? Aren't YOU a foreigner to the islands, too? The islands you've grown so fond of were a part of my kingdom first," he taunted. The four from Domino City looked completely lost. Some things never changed.

"YOU destroyed your kingdom! I am here to see that these islands live on. Get your haole boys off my land, or you will never, ever see them again." Dartz's grin widened. His men were to leave Hawaii the next day.

"I see. The power you wield shall no longer work in these islands. Leave us in peace." The image slowly fizzled out. Dartz could no longer feel the minds of his Doom Warriors. Thank goodness they were leaving tomorrow morning.

"Did. . .anyone understand that?" the irritating blond kid piped up. Dartz sighed. It would be a small matter for him to scoop up their souls, but he didn't feel like wasting the effort.

"Since you were all so nice to come out here, I think I'll tell you a little story before you leave." The pharoah's brow darkened.

"We're not interested in that. We want the souls you've stolen back," he said flatly. Dartz chuckled.

"I don't feel like giving them back. Why don't you return. . .say, never?" Dartz narrowed his eyes. In moments, he stood alone in the great hall.

Peace and quiet at last.

---

Author's notes:

I'd best put one in here, or bad things might start happening!

First, the events that Dartz saw were rather old, indeed. Don't mind his comment to Tea.

Second, Pele is the goddess of volcanoes. She originally came from Tahiti. She is known for her temper, her love of handsome men, and her habit of hitchhiking around the islands. She also has a younger sister, and probably several other siblings I forgot to mention. On the bright side, she is also very strong, powerful, assertive, adventurous, and beautiful. Never anger Pele.

The title, "Caldera", shouldn't be too hard to figure out.

And yes, I'm pretty certain that Pele could block Dartz's power.

The next chapter is also a potpourri. . .back in Hawaii. 


	14. O Holy Night

Chapter 14: O Holy Night

Author's notes:

It's the last chapter! Whew!

The previous chapters had some measure of humor in them. I planned on writing one serious chapter, and this is it. The style of writing will also be a bit different. Instead of narrating from one point of view, the story will be made up of all three Doom Warriors narrations. They will be separated by three slashes ().

I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters, any city lights, any Christmas trees, and Christmas displays, any horses, any carriages, any results of a horse-drawn carriage, the song "O Holy Night" (this arrangement belongs to a local artist, one who I will identify AFTER this chapter), or anything else that isn't me.

Onward!!

---

The lights in front of the city hall were gorgeous. Varon sorely wished that he had a camera. After the incident on the Pali Highway, they had gone back to their rooms to rest before coming to see the Christmas display, which the hotel staff had urged them to go to. The lit display announced the "Honolulu City Lights". The hotel staff had been right; this was a GOOD place to be.

Carriages clopped merrily along. The horses were well-behaved, considering the traffic that flowed around them. He hated to think of what the horses left behind.

A large Santa sat in the fountain, with Mrs. Clause by his side. Santa and his wife cooled their feet in the fountain. It was either a sign of extreme disrespect or a sign that the government could make fun of itself. He hoped it was the latter.

The wreaths that hung in the hall ranged from sloppy to near-professional. Raphael took the time to read the inscriptions. Some were done by individual people. Others were done by groups of students at schools ranging from preschool to high school. Some of the prettiest wreaths came from individuals.

He stopped to stare at a flowery wreath, the went on to a wreath decorated with children's photographs. The wreaths seemed to be hung based on color and/or theme. They ranged from hearty and brown to impossible shades of blue, purple, and red. A few poked fun at "Christmas reefs".

He silently hoped that Amelda would take a few pictures of this hall.

Amelda glared at the bubbles. Some genius had put a spontaneous bubble-maker near one of the trees, and children clustered around it. In the process, their small bodies got in his way. WHY did his deck have to be burned to a crisp?

All of the trees were designed by various government departments. Some were as traditional as traditional could be. Others. . .well. . .

One tree had a fire hose in place of a garland. Another had blue-and-green decorations, instead of the usual red, gold, and silver ornaments. One wasn't even a tree; it was a house, with the lyrics to The Twelve Days of Christmas, or some horrible butchering of it.

Several of the trees had poems written near them. He didn't have time to read them all, because the people around him wouldn't hold still long enough for him to make out the small words.

He did manage to fill one camera with trees. He prepared another camera and went outside.

The three Doom Warriors met at the base of a large Christmas tree. Decorations were piled high, and horrible music blared through unseen speakers.

Amelda made the mistake of looking to his right. Another high school punk glared at him. The girl looked at someone to Amelda's right. Then they did their best to nauseate Amelda.

Amelda looked to his right, and stared. The girl had her back to him. She wore a cute red top that did nothing to hide a very feminine figure. Her jeans accented the shape of her--

She looked directly at him. He nearly choked. It was the same girl with the creepy mother. She arched an eyebrow at him.

"I can be as pretty or as ugly as I want. What's it to you?" She wore an expression of rage. She must have been the target of that other girl's glare. He got yet another bad idea.

"Can you stand right there?" he asked, and motioned to a spot somewhat near the couple that had provoked his ire. It was the best he could do for revenge. She gave him an odd look, but complied.

He positioned her so that she was in line with the tree. He took out his camera. She smiled. He let loose with the flash. The couple broke apart and glared at him.

"I finally found a pretty girl to photograph," Amelda said a bit too loudly. He walked up to the girl he had just taken a picture of.

"Thank you for your cooperation, and your cute face." The girl gave him a puzzled look. The couple glared and left. Perfect.

Once they were gone, she turned to him. "Liar," she said softly, before turning to go. Amelda put a hand on her shoulder.

"So I lied a little about your face. You do look better when you're in red," he added. She slapped him soundly and stormed off.

"Still can't get a girl, eh," Varon said from behind him. Amelda glared. Raphael ignored them.

The music suddenly stopped. From behind them, another song started. It was "O Holy Night". The singer's voice was unfamiliar. After a few strains, he switched to another language, Hawaiian no doubt. Amelda listened, transfixed. He'd never heard singing like that before.

Raphael's eyes were closed. The song was the most beautiful arrangement of the Christmas carol he'd ever heard.

Varon's expression held nothing but awe. He slowly smiled. He had one more purchase to make. As the last notes of the song died away, he talked to the person that had the radio. Varon's final stop would be a music store.

Amelda looked up at the giant Christmas tree. If only his younger brother were here. . .

Raphael's expression was unreadable.

It was time to go back.

---

Author's notes:

I've got a few minutes left!

The annual Christmas display is a must-see for anyone that comes in the month of December. The displays stretch throughout Downtown Honolulu, but I just had the Doom Warriors stay near the city hall, for simplicity's sake.

The singer of that arrangement of "O Holy Night" is Willie K, an artist who probably isn't well known outside of Hawaii. His arrangement puts all other arrangements of the song to shame. It's THAT good.

The title of this fic, "Summer Vacation (CU Mix)" is sarcasm. The Doom Warriors obviously came in the middle of winter. Hawaii is supposed to be known for its wonderful weather year-round. Few people realize that the weather in Hawaii can be horrid. It's my way of thumbing my nose at the travel companies.

This was originally a gift for JC Maxwell-Yuy. In the process, I wound up writing this story for a second person. Merry Christmas mom! You're the coolest!!

I stink at serious chapters. Sorry!

Story complete: 11:59 P.M. I made it!

Merry Christmas, and to all a good night! 


	15. Stay

Chapter 15: Stay

Author's note, which shouldn't be here:

This fic was supposed to end at Chapter 14. But, something went wrong with my summary. As a result. . .I'll upload a few more chapters. Consider this a belated Christmas present. A VERY belated Christmas present.

Thanks for the reviews, Fifilafemme and Pink x Glass! The Christmas cookies have all been eaten, so you'll have to do with animal cookies!!

I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters/quirks, any airlines, any airports, any computer systems related to any airlines, any storm systems, any hot beverages, any cold beverages, any beverages between hot and cold, any duels, the song "Stay" (owned by at least three different artists, because three artists came up with three different songs with the same name), or any restaurants. The only thing I own is me (yet again).

And off (the record) I go!

---

It was supposed to be time to leave. As usual, something had meddled with those plans. As a result, the Doom Warriors were two days overdue. Raphael was not the one to sit around and wait. Instead, he was stuck following Varon to some kind of store. Curse Varon's sweet tooth.

The store in question was smack in the middle of a residential area. Just down the street was a public library. Like all public libraries, it was closed for no reason at all.

Children played dangerously close to the street. A couple of them gave Raphael odd looks as he got off of his motorcycle. Several young girls developed sparkly eyes as Varon walked up to the menu. From the look on Varon's face, this wasn't the first time it had happened. Raphael sorely wished for the power to seal souls. The stone on his chest simply sat there. It was nothing but decoration now.

Raphael took a closer look at the menu. Flavors littered the sign. Almost all of them were some sort of fruity flavor. It might suit Amelda's tastes. . .in candy, that is.

It was impossible to decide conventionally. He took out his cell phone. Unbeknownst to his fellow Warriors, he'd found a way to program a random number generator into his cell phone. It was the perfect device for tough decisions. He ran it twice. He counted down the menu and found the two flavors the random number generator had chosen. Cherry and coke. Just great.

Varon's order hadn't made much sense, but the condensed milk sounded good. Raphael placed his order, and in a few moments, the treat that Varon refused to shut up about started to melt in his hands. He let off a few less-than-pleasant words and watched in amusement as the girls around Varon scattered. Fangirls were irritating.

The icy treat was indeed delicious. The condensed milk made the entire thing taste like a cream soda. With some effort, Raphael managed to get the cone off of his hand. Varon got most of it off of his hands. A few bits still refused to let go.

The sleepy little community that the store was located in was definitely not meant to be a tourist trap. The stores were simple, and the prices were somewhat reasonable. The tourists were supposed to expect something exotic from Hawaii. Raphael's surroundings indicated that the locals were more ordinary than he'd ever imagined.

Things slowly changed as Raphael reentered Waikiki. The glitziness that screamed of tourism slowly creeped back into the scenery. He liked the quiet side of Hawaii better.

"Oh crud," Varon muttered as Raphael parked his motorcycle. It looked like Varon was up to one of his usual pranks again. He wasn't letting go of the handlebars.

"I. . .curses," Varon said, a bit louder. His hands appeared to be stuck to the handlebars. Raphael stifled a giggle.

"Well don't just stand there looking stupid," Varon said, this time with a glare. Raphael couldn't hold the giggles any longer. They were soon drowned out by another motorcycle engine. Amelda had come back from whereever he had run off to, and he seemed to have brought back something. Or more precisely, someone.

Whoever it was didn't move when Amelda cut the engine. In a few moments, Raphael saw why - the person was unconscious. He silently wondered how Amelda had managed to transport that person.

Amelda let the person fall in an unceremonious heap at his feet. It was the girl he had met up at the Nu'uanu Pali. What did Amelda want with her now? Varon's stream of curses stopped for a few moments.

"Did she tell you to get lost one too many times?" Varon taunted, despite his sticky situation. Amelda glared.

"I want my deck," the redhead stated. Raphael sighed. Amelda's obssessions were about as disturbing as his usual garb. . .which he thankfully did not wear in Hawaii.

Raphael thought he saw the girl's eyes twitch. Suddenly, Amelda went down. Before Raphael could react, the girl stood up and dusted herself off. She glared at the fallen Warrior.

"That was for knockin' my head," she said groggily. She gave the fallen figure a kick in the shins. . .

. . .and was immediately taken down by Amelda, who had only been stunned. In moments, the girl was unconscious again, this time courtesy of the seat of Amelda's motorcycle.

"I shouldn't knock her around like that. It will destory the precious few brain cells she has left," Amelda said sarcastically. Varon had managed to get one and a half hands off of his motorcycle. Another figure stood behind Amelda. Whoever it was stood about as tall as Raphael. He gave the unconscious girl a casual glance.

"She's supposed to return my CD," the new person said in a very strange tone.

"She owes me a deck!" Amelda half-screamed. The parking structure echoed nicely.

"Oh, you duel?" the new person half-taunted. The look in the person's eyes said, "you nutcase."

"I WOULD OBLITERATE YOU IF I HAD A DECK!" Amelda's voice bounced off of several concrete walls before finally giving up. It was time to shut both of them up.

"I'll duel for this screaming fool. If I win, the girl stays with us. If you win, you can do whatever you want to her." The other person looked at Raphael as if the latter had suddenly turned into a fire hydrant. Finally, he shrugged.

"Whatever. I want that CD back," he stated. Again. Raphael realized that he left his deck upstairs. The other person looked around at the parking lot.

"Perhaps you could think of a better duelling location?" the other person asked. Finally.

"Follow me," Raphael said simply. Varon finally freed his fingers from the handlebar and followed. Amelda was left with the unconscious girl. With a muttered curse, no doubt about her weight, he hefted her over his shoulder. It made her look like a sack of rice.

Perhaps the flight delay was a good thing.

---

Author's notes, again:

Well, it's the return of my favorite shave ice store! It was also my return, even if I was awake for all of thirty seconds.

Amelda: You're much more pleasant when you're NOT talking.

Me: And if I don't talk, you three will never reach California again.

My friend had mentioned that he had wanted to run someone over. He'll get that oppportunity. . .next chapter. Stay tuned!

Varon: Bad pun.

Me: Not intended, go away.

"Stay" is one of three songs. All three are fairly sappy, so I won't go any further than that. It was actually a reference to Varon's little "problem" with shave ice syrup. . .

Lastly, I mentioned something in Chapter 12 that I need to explain. The term "haole", which approximately translates to "foreigner", was first used for the early missionaries and the like. Eventually, it became a term for "fair skin, blond hair, blue eyes, or anything of that racial background". It can also be used as a derogatory term. However, it wasn't meant to be taken like that. . .at least, not in this fic. I used the term "haole" literally - that is, I'm simply describing Dartz's henchmen as foreigners to Hawaii. 


	16. Aoi Shoudou

Chapter 16 - Aoi Shoudou

Author's notes:

Thank you Fifilafemme! As for cookies. . .hmm. . .how about some oatmeal chocolate chip?

I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any characters/monsters/cards from aforementioned series, my friend (he 0wnz me at this game), any of his strategies, any CDs (it belongs to him), any carpets, any hotel bills, the song "Aoi Shoudou" (which is owned by Naoki and Yuki), or anything else that isn't me.

That's enough of me. . .

---

A few well-placed glares from Raphael ensured that the pool deck was completely free of spectators. Amelda silently fumed. HE should be the one duelling, not Raphael! HE wouldn't have let the stranger go first!

The stranger immediately played Painful Choice. Amelda looked at the choices, and whistled softly. The dippy stranger had yanked five very unusual cards. Makula the Executioner's inclusion had been pretty obvious; its effect was activated by sending it to the graveyard. The Cyber Jar would wipe the field clean unless Raphael found a way to get rid of it without battling it. The choices of the X and Y parts of the XYZ cannon mystified the redhead a little. What good could they do in the graveyard? The final card, Soul Absorption, was obviously a decoy. No one in their right mind would use such a horrible card.

Raphael cocked an eyebrow and gave the stranger Makula. The stranger looked a bit downcast, but accepted the card. He then set two cards and a monster. It wasn't a very promising move.

Raphael mimicked the stranger's moves, without the Painful Choice. Both sides had a monster set and two more set cards. This was going to be very interesting.

The stranger then played Pot of Greed and Graceful Charity simultaneously. As predicted, Makula went to the graveyard as part of Graceful Charity's effect. So did the D.D. Warrior Lady. One day, Amelda would make a deck consisting of nothing but pretty women, including the D.D. Warrior Lady. It would be used to frustrate his fellow Doom Warriors.

The stranger immediately played Heavy Storm. Raphael's set cards were swept away. Raphael didn't look too upset. His set monster was probably the real threat.

The stranger then did something to his graveyard. In moments, a VERY big dragon stood in the middle of the duel. One leg stood in a swimming pool; the other flattened several beach chairs. The dragon sneezed as a palm frond tickled its nose. Its breath smelled faintly of sulfur.

The stranger then played Soul Release. Imaginary question marks floated above Amelda's head. The only cards that could be removed were in the stranger's graveyard!

(No) thanks to Makula's effect, the stranger played Return From The Different Dimension straight from his hand. His life point gauge dropped to 4000. It was a start, at least. Amelda did a double-take when he saw what was assembled on the stranger's side of the field. The D.D. Warrior Lady was waist-deep in the kiddie pool. The two pieces of the XYZ Cannon each took up a beach chair.

The stranger then dropped one more card from his hand, one that Amelda had seen and ignored. The Compulsory Evacuation Device sent the monster that was the only thing between Raphael and a Whole Pile of Damage back to its owner's hand.

To add insult to injury, the stranger removed the X and Y pieces from the game in order to summon two-thirds of the XYZ Cannon. Though it was nowhere near as strong as XYZ put together, XY was still quite formidable.

Then the stranger attacked with everything. Amelda winced as Raphael's life points dropped dangerously low.

Suddenly, the field turned a very ominous shade of red. From out of somewhere, Varon swore. The stranger had activated the Chaos Emperor Dragon's other effect.

When the smoke cleared, Amelda blinked. The pool area wasn't the least bit damaged. Raphael stared dumbly at his duel disk. Amelda stared dumbly at the stranger. That had to be one of the fastest duels he'd ever seen.

The stranger walked over to the girl, who Amelda had dropped on the deck. He had been tempted to drop her face-first in the pool, but then she wouldn't be able to replace his deck.

He talked to her for several moments. She gave him what looked like a skinny CD case. He thanked her and walked off. Raphael blinked.

"But I thought he. . ." the largest Doom Warrior started to say.

"Well, I've gotta go. See ya!" With a perky bounce, the girl turned to leave. Amelda wasn't about to be denied his deck! He quickly grabbed her arm.

"I'd like to stay and play with you, mister, but I've gotta meet my mom. Unless you want to talk to her again. . ." Amelda quickly let go. That girl's mom made Dartz seem like a gentle, caring person. She looked at him and giggled.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud. Decks are far easier to make than grades! When you get your new deck, courtesy of yourself, I'd like to duel you." She bounded off. . .

. . .straight into a folded umbrella. Varon giggled. Raphael sighed. Amelda shook his head. She didn't seem to be good for anything but a single photograph. Speaking of photographs. . .if he left now, he'd be able to get a picture of a particular sunset. The skies held lacy cirrus clouds. Perfect.

With a very uncharacteristic smile, Amelda ran to the parking lot. Maybe he'd come away with the ultimate souvenir.

---

Author's note, again:

My friend's deck was made for fun, not for advanced tournament play. Please don't mind it.

"Aoi Shoudou" literally means "Blue Impulse". It can also mean "Youthful Urges", depending on the translation. Keep thy thoughts pure, and maybe the significance of the title shall make itself known. . .

I run into stationary objects all the time. I've also got the bruises to prove it.

Unless my summary screws up again, the next chapter WILL be the last one. 


	17. one seek

Chapter 17 - one seek

Unless my summary does BAD things (again), this SHOULD be the last chapter. . .

Well JC Maxwell-Yuy. . .I'm GLAD you enjoyed blowing up the dragon. . .as usual. . .I SHALL RETURN!

Erm. . .anyway, thank you Fifilafemme and JC Maxwell-Yuy for reviews! Since this SHOULD be the last chapter I'm writing, I'll hand out. . .ah, fortune cookies. Enjoy!

I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters, any photographs, the song "one seek" (that's positive MA), or anything else that isn't me.

For the last time, onward!

---

Christmas was a few days away. Varon had somehow gotten all of his purchases into his suitcases, and did his best to unload everything. In moments, he was knee-deep in stuff, ranging from dirty laundry to a particular CD he had purchased shortly before leaving the islands. He gave the CD a look before popping it into a radio/CD player, and blasting one of the tracks. Then he went back to sorting stuff.

Amelda fumed. Varon's horrible music didn't help his mood. He had staggered out of one of the bathrooms well after most people had disembarked, only to find that his carry-on was missing. The other Doom Warriors, who were sitting nowhere near him, were of no help. He had lost 5 disposable camera's worth of film! This was no time to be listening to Christmas music! He sighed and started unpacking. One of his trenchcoats felt a bit heavier than it should have. A disposable camera was tucked away in a pocket. With a near-maniacal look in his eyes, he did a thorough check of the rest of his clothing. He scrounged together three cameras total. It was better than nothing. It was time to develop the fruit of his efforts.

Raphael didn't have much to unpack. The faint whisper of a Christmas song was the only thing that broke the silence. In the amount of time it took for someone's footsteps to storm past his room, he had finshed sorting the laundry. He'd kept his shopping to a minimum, and the small assortment of items he had snagged from The Aloha State sat on his bed. . .and one item he didn't remember packing started to move.

Dartz rolled his eyes. Since when were ANY of his Doom Warriors afraid of bugs? The cursing from Raphael's room vanished, as the oldest of his Warriors flushed a relative of Girochin Kuwagata down the toilet. A motorcycle engine roared to life. Amelda's mind was fixated on the three disposable cameras in his pocket. Dartz shook his head. It would be a waste of effort to pry into Amelda's lack of a mind. Varon's off-key mental singing jarred Dartz's mind. Varon had a tolerable sense of humor, and absolutely no musical talent whatsoever.

Life was back to normal.

It was somewhat late on Christmas Eve. Varon had somehow sorted an extraordinary pile of stuff, and it sat in a delicate balance around his room. The other 12 songs on the CD he had bought were excellent. He listened to a very interesting rendition of a traditional Christmas song, and smiled. Christmas was a wonderful time of year.

Amelda looked at the bulletin board near his bed. It was neatly decorated with some of the better pictures he had taken during his stay in Hawaii. The rest of the pictures were stored under his bed. . .just in case he wanted to change the bulletin board's appearance (or hunt down a certain girl). One showed the sign of the shave ice store he'd stopped off at. Another was a breathtaking picture of the Nuuanu Pali. He'd put the prettiest picture in such a way that he would look at it when he woke up. It was a picture that captured the beauty of the islands. . .a picture so beautiful that even he was amazed. . .a picture that he never thought he'd walk away with. . .a picture that would never leave the bulletin board. . .the picture of a sunset over Tantalus.

The rain outside made things seem much more cozy. Raphael sat down, and listened to the rain outside. The only thing that would make things more perfect would be a nice book. He reached for a book on ghost stories from Hawaii. . .

. . .and the lights went out. Dartz winced as swearing in three languages reached him. Couldn't they think of more creative things to say? In moments, their thoughts shifted to sleepy thoughts. In a few more moments, all three of them slept. The rain pounded on the roof mercilessly. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Life was precisely the way it should be.

---

Author's notes, for the LAST time:

Well, I had to find a way to finish this up. There was NO way I was going to catalogue 192 pictures!

Amelda: You COULD have humored me. . .

Anyway, I'm sorry for the delay. Life has been strange.

The song "one seek" is the ending song for Beatmania: The Final. It also describes one thing from the trip from each Doom Warrior that I decided to outline (Varon's CD, Amelda's obssession with pictures, and Raphael's horrible luck). Sorry Raphael!

I hope that you, the reader, enjoyed this fic. I do LOVE--

Raphael: Oh really?

Me: WILL YOU LET ME FINISH?!

--torturing the Doom Warriors, so expect to see at least a few more things involving them when I get around to writing them! This is my favorite story arc of the entire series, if only because I can stare at a certain guy and not feel too guilty.

Amelda: Pervert.

Me: I wasn't referring to you, CHILD.

I will still accept reviews. Depending on the review, I might respond to them in an upcoming fic. . .which I WILL write, eventually. Mahalo, and adieu! 


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